


Blowing Off Steam *Discontinued for Rewrite*

by ChocolateGate (cocosmama)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Claustrophobia, Developing Friendships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse-Past, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Issues With Intimacy, Masturbation, Multiple Relationships, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Polyamory, Pure Unadulterated Friendship, Sex Toys, Sexual Experimentation, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Social Anxiety, Tony Stark Has Issues, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocosmama/pseuds/ChocolateGate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lab accident leaves Grace Kinney with an embarrassing side effect: the most awkward situations turn her on. That wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for her crippling fear of intimacy. With no outlet for her sexual frustration, her episodes grow increasingly frequent. Lucky for her, the Avengers are willing to step in and help her battle her inner demons by any means necessary.<br/>Poly fic.</p><p>*This fic is discontinued for a rewrite. I've got a full outline done, and when I'm finished writing the entire thing I will be reposting under a different title. Hopefully any fans of Grace will be happy with my decision.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Authors Note

Sorry to all the readers, but I've discontinued this to rewrite it. It'll be posted when it's complete. I'm leaving up this version by request of a reader though, so you'll still be able to read it if there are scenes you enjoyed. Thanks for all the love and comments everyone! It keeps me going.


	2. How it all begins

"That cashier over there, the snotty blonde. See her? She took my coupon and didn't even scan it. That's theft. You owe me two dollars," an angry customer shouted at Grace Kinney across the customer service desk.

Grace hid her trembling hands out of view and tried to come up with a response. The woman kept ranting, threatening to call the police. Her shrill voice sounded eerily similar to Grace's birth mother, Angie. Grace managed to stay relatively calm until the woman directed the verbal attacks at her.

"Are you stupid or something? Open the damn register and give me my money. All you kids are the same. Just useless, disrespectful idiots. I bet you're working here because you couldn't get a job anywhere else. Is that it? You're too stupid to do anything but work a cash register?"

She tried to ignore the tickle of sweat forming under her arms and the tears stinging her eyes. The words were different, but the sentiment was one she'd heard a million times as a child. The gush of wetness between her thighs made her cringe inside; being reminded of the woman who had made her childhood a nightmare shouldn’t cause such a reaction, but her body never reacted to things the way she thought it would.

She jammed her finger onto the drawer release button on the register and threw the two crumpled dollars at the vile woman who gave her a triumphant grin. As soon as she walked away, Grace clocked out on her break and darted toward the back of the store to the single person bathroom and turned the overhead fan on. The flush of arousal was quickly overheating her, so she pulled her pants down to her ankles, sat on the toilet seat, and began the familiar two-fingered dance she’d been doing more and more often. She wasn't sure what would happen if she didn’t get herself off, and she wasn’t about to test it now.

After her pleasure crested, she came down from the small high and everything returned to normal. After washing her hands, she lifted her arms to fan the dark patches of sweat that had gathered on her cotton work shirt before she had to return to her place at the front of the store. There were only three minutes left of her fifteen-minute break, so she smoothed her curls in the mirror and pushed down the self-loathing she was so used to feeling. She would have plenty of time to obsess over the sick state of her mind in three hours when her shift was over and she could go home.

She returned to the front desk and plastered a smile on her face as she greeted the next customer with a complaint.

* * *

A familiar alarm sounded in the lab. Bruce Banner ruffled a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. When he’d been searching for the Tesseract, his program had picked up some alarming radiation signatures at Culver University in Virginia. He’d kept an eye on them after noticing a sporadic pattern of surges. After the Tesseract was returned to Asgard, they started happening more and more often.

He had been so sure they were just the result of some harmless lab experiments until he noticed something new. The source of the surges was no longer limited to Culver, in fact, they had moved to another area of Virginia. The variety of locations suggested that it wasn’t a machine creating the energy, but a person. A person who was rapidly losing control.

After the third alarm in less than a month, he decided to call in a favor.

* * *

“Tell me, again, why we agreed to take this one,” Clint Barton said to Natasha Romanov, as she piloted the quinjet toward a small farmhouse in the middle of Virginia.

She kept her eyes trained straight ahead on the ground they were quickly approaching. “I owed Bruce a favor, and you’ve been dying to get out and see some action.”

She wasn’t wrong. They hadn’t had much to do recently. They didn’t even get called in to deal with the incident in London with Thor, so when the opportunity arose to investigate an unknown entity, Natasha didn’t refuse. 

They landed in stealth mode on the snow-covered property, and Natasha pulled out the file she’d compiled on the owners of the property. “Should be pretty simple. The only listed residents are a couple in their fifties and a twenty-seven-year-old woman they adopted nine years ago.”

“You good to take the lead here? I’m a little out of practice,” Clint said with a sly grin.

He wasn’t, but Natasha could calm even the most ferocious of beasts. If they were dealing with anything big and scary, they needed to have every advantage.

“I always do, don’t I?” Natasha shot back. 

They scouted the yard, ready for a confrontation. Fresh tire tracks in the snow led to a car parked on the side of the house. Clint silently lifted the hood of the blue sedan and fiddled with something inside. 

He gently let it close before joining Natasha by the edge of the house. “Engine’s still warm.” 

“I’m going to knock,” Natasha said, confident that they had overestimated the threat.He followed her up the porch steps and stood off to the side as she knocked three times on the door. A minute later they heard the thunk of the deadbolt being turned and the scrape of a chain lock being removed. 

The door opened a fraction, just enough for them to see the face of a woman scrutinizing them warily. She didn’t open the door any further. “Can I help you?” 

Natasha flashed her a toothy smile and clasped her hands behind her back. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, may we come in?”

Grace frowned and tilted her head to one side, trying to place their familiar faces. “Are you from Culver?”

“No, we’re with the Avengers. I’m Black Widow, he’s Hawkeye,” she said, tilting her head toward Clint. 

Grace’s frown deepened, but she opened the door enough to let them in. She shut and locked it again as soon as they cleared the entry rug. 

The inside of the house was warm, with well-worn furniture and family photos on the walls. It was lived in, not immaculately clean or overly organized. Grace led her guests into a room with a floral-patterned couch and a matching loveseat. 

“Why don’t we sit down,” she said, gesturing for them to take the couch. When they got comfortable, she spoke again. “Why are you here?”

Clint answered first. “Bruce Banner sent us to find you.”

“What?” she said, almost choking on her own spit. “He knows who I am? How? I mean, I’m a nobody. Is this some kind of prank?”

“He’s been tracking a radioactive signature for a few years. It led him here.” 

“We don’t have anything radioactive here,” she said, folding her arms across her body and tucking herself as far as possible into the couch.

“Actually, it’s you. I'm wearing a radiation monitor. As soon as you opened the door, the silent alarm came on.”

Natasha held out the monitor for her to inspect, and the color drained from Grace’s cheeks. “Please, I don’t know anything about it. Don’t lock me up,” she pleaded.

“We’re only here to help. All you have to do is tell the truth. Have you ever had any exposure to radiation?”

“I'm not sure what I was exposed to, but there was an explosion in a lab I was working in four years ago.”

“What were they working with?” Natasha asked.

She shrugged. “I was only an assistant. I took notes and cleaned beakers, you know, grunt work.”

“They didn’t warn you about hazardous materials?”

“No, the blast came from the restricted zone. Everything in there was classified.”

“What college lab does classified experiments?”

“I was just grateful for the job, I didn't ask questions.”

“What about afterward? They didn’t contact you?”

Grace picked at one of her fingernails. “No, I quit after it happened. I started having some… issues.” 

“What kind of issues?”

Grace’s eyes grew wide, and a blush stained her cheeks red. She tried to speak, but no words would come out of her mouth, so she shook her head and looked at the floor.

Natasha’s brow furrowed as she turned to Clint. “We’re going to have to bring her in and let Bruce run some tests.”

“I’ll call him,” he said, walking into the attached kitchen.

Grace scrambled to her feet, “I didn't agree to that. You can’t take me against my will.”

“Our only option is to bring you with us. We can't keep you safe if we don't even know what's happening.”

Grace paced back and forth. “I don’t need you to keep me safe, I’ve been perfectly safe for years. I’m not hurting anyone.”

“Let me put it another way. We aren’t the only ones with the technology to track you. Chances are, the next people to come for you won't be so polite.”

Grace clenched her fists and said, “No,” before she fumbled with the locks on the front door and ran outside in her slippers, not even bothering to put on a coat.

“Where’d she go?” Clint asked when he returned from the kitchen. Natasha pointed to the open door. “You disabled her car, right?”

Clint snorted. “What do you think this is, amateur hour?”

* * *

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Grace groaned, punching the dashboard of her car when it didn’t start. A ping reminded her that her phone was in her pocket, and she grabbed it and dialed her mom’s number.

“ _Hi sweetheart._ ” The familiar voice helped to ease the ache in the pit of her stomach.

“Two people showed up at the house.”

“ _Oh? What did they want?_ ”

“They’re still here. They want me to come with them.”

Her mother’s voice grew urgent. “ _Honey, stay right where you are. Your father and I will be home in ten minutes._ ”

The car was the safest place to be, so she locked the doors and settled in to wait. She tried to breathe through her growing panic. It was the wrong time to have another episode, so she focused on calming her nerves. “I’ll be fine. They’re the good guys. They can help,” she told herself out loud. Only crazy people talked to themselves. She wasn’t crazy, was she? 

Of course, sane people could probably control their libido. She chuckled at the thought. She spent a lot of time trying to convince herself she was normal, that there was nothing wrong with her, but she knew the truth. Even before the accident, she’d been different. Never kissed anyone, never even held hands. The desire was there, but when someone tried to initiate any intimate contact, she would freeze up, lost in her head. It didn’t take long for her reputation to spread. People in town looked at her like she was a freak. 

She’d accepted her fate, to be alone for the rest of her life, but after the explosion, something changed. Seemingly random things would throw her into a state of lust that wouldn’t stop until she got herself off. She’d never been very comfortable with masturbation before that, but she quickly learned what made her tick. It had been happening a lot more often lately. Probably what tipped the Avengers off. Grace shuddered at the thought that someone could tell every time it had happened. Before she could obsess over it any further, her dad’s truck rumbled up the driveway. 

Her mother hadn’t been exaggerating on the time. It had only been eight minutes since the phone call. She jumped from her car and ran to meet them. As soon as she stepped out of the truck, Melissa Kinney pulled her daughter into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. It was only when Grace felt Melissa's warmth that she realized how cold she was. 

“Where are they?” her husband Carl barked, as he marched toward the house. 

“I left them inside, sitting on the couch. I don’t think they came out.”

She and her mother trailed behind him and they found Clint and Natasha standing in the living room.

“Who are you? How did you find our daughter?” Carl growled.

“Sir, we are part of the Avengers Initiative. We want your daughter to come with us to New York.” Natasha answered.

Melissa’s eyebrows raised and her mouth fell open. “Avengers? Are you the Black Widow?”

“Yes, and this is my partner, Hawkeye.”

Carl studied Natasha skeptically. “Why do you want her?”

“We believe she was exposed to radiation during her time at Culver University. She’s been putting off low levels of it ever since, and we’d like to figure out why.”

Melissa and Carl looked at their daughter, who hadn't said a word. “What do you think?”

She shrugged her folded arms, then reached out to take her dad’s hand. “Maybe I should go? I'm not sure.” Tears welled in her brown eyes, so she looked at the ceiling.

Natasha cleared her throat, “The decision is yours, but remember what I said earlier about the others who may be tracking you.”

Grace wiped her eyes and caught the looks of concern her parents gave each other. The idea that someone could hurt them to get to her made the decision easy. “I’ll go pack a bag.”

She walked upstairs to her room and pulled her suitcase out of the closet and packed her laptop and the journals she had kept since the explosion. The rest of the bag she filled with as many clothes as she could fit.

She picked up a photograph of her with her chosen parents and tucked it in the suitcase. She wasn’t theirs by birth, but they opened their home and their hearts to her as soon as she met them eleven years ago. They’d protected her, and now it was her turn to protect them. She slipped a leather bracelet on her wrist. It was the first gift Melissa had given her when they found her at sixteen. She didn’t wear it much anymore, but she needed something tangible to remind her of the only safe place she’d ever had as she set off for the unknown. 

She zipped the suitcase shut and lugged it down the stairs as quietly as she could. Everyone was looking at her when she walked into the front room and said, “I’m ready.”

Clint clapped his hands together once and opened the front door. “Time to hit the skies.”

Grace frowned but didn’t get the chance to ask what he meant before the two Avengers shook her parents’ hands and stepped outside so they could say goodbye in private.

“Don’t get into any trouble. I’ve heard stories about some of those Avengers. If Tony Stark lays a finger on you, I’ll come up and kill him myself,” Carl said, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Grace couldn't hold back a small smile. “If he does, you’ll be my first call.” Her dad nodded once, then stepped out onto the porch, most likely to threaten the two Avengers. 

Melissa held Grace’s cheeks in her hands and studied her face, trying to memorize it in case she never came home. “I know you’re going somewhere new and exciting, but don’t let yourself get lost in the process. You’re only just figuring out who you are.”

“I won’t. But, I’m so scared.” The familiar burn of tears stung her eyes for the third time that day. “How am I going to survive without you there? I’m no good at holding myself together.” 

Melissa pressed her lips together and wrapped Grace in a tight hug. “If you need me, all you have to do is pick up your phone and call. If I don’t pick up, call Dad. His ringer’s always on.” 

They laughed together. Neither of them ever answered their phones, and it drove Carl crazy, so he vowed that his phone would never be on silent mode. Not even in the movie theater. 

“I bet you’ll be begging me to stop calling so much by the weekend.”

“Never. I’ll always want to talk to my girl.” 

After one last hug, Grace grabbed her suitcase and stepped out the door, then followed Clint around to the back of the house. Natasha pulled a small device from a pocket on her suit, hit a button, and the sleek jet became visible.

“Are you kidding me? You landed an invisible airplane in our backyard? How is that even possible?”

Clint scoffed, “It’s called a quinjet. If this amazes you, I can’t wait to introduce you to the rest of the team.”

Grace froze as his words hit her. “I’m going to meet the rest of the Avengers?”

“The ones who live in the tower at the very least,” Natasha said, on her way into the quinjet.

Grace followed, her body moving automatically. The roar of the engines drowned out everything and the reality of her new situation set in. She only had twenty-eight minutes to wallow in her thoughts before the wheels screeched against the landing pad. Her stomach dropped. She wasn’t ready.


	3. Meeting Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you lovelies. Enjoy!

Clint and Natasha wasted no time exiting the aircraft, and she scrambled to keep up. At the base of the ramp, Natasha reached for her suitcase. “Clint will show you to Doctor Banner’s lab while I find out where Tony wants you to stay.”

Grace’s eyebrows rose. “I’m staying here?”

Natasha pursed her lips trying to hold back a grin. “Would you rather sleep on a bench in Central Park?”

“Well, no but..." Grace glanced up and saw Clint snickering into his hand. "You don't have to be a jerk. I’m barely hanging onto my sanity as it is." 

Natasha walked off without a reply, leaving Grace standing there with her hands on her hips.

“She’ll grow on you.” Clint said.

“Five bucks says she won’t,” Grace muttered. Something told her that the intimidating woman knew more than she let on, and it unnerved her. She liked to keep her past life private, especially from strangers who swoop in and convince her to go on some wild adventure.

Clint laughed, and she followed him to the elevator. He swiped his badge, typed in a code, and they descended to the seventy-fifth floor.

The silence was uncomfortable, but neither knew what to say. Grace fidgeted, tracing her fingertip over the intricately braided celtic knot on her bracelet. Nervous excitement rolled off her in waves.

“What’s the matter kid, kid?”

“I’m about to meet Bruce Banner. Anyone would be nervous.”

“You didn’t get weird when you met me, and I’m Hawkeye!”

“Well, I didn’t have time to prepare for it, you showed up on my doorstep.”

“There’s something else. What is it?”

“I saw an article about him when I was a kid. He inspired me to study science. He’s part of the reason I went to college.”

Clint shook his head in disbelief. Out of everyone, she idolized Banner? Not even because of his rage monster tendencies, but because he’s a genius? It boggled his mind. By all accounts, Hawkeye should have been her favorite. Hell, there were polls proving that he was everyone’s favorite. He’d never understand the way women worked.

Before he could stress about it any longer, the elevator door slid open. Clint walked out, pulling her along with him. She jerked her wrist free as soon as they were on solid ground. They came to a metal door with a retina scanner and fingerprint pad, but Clint didn’t bother with them. “Is Bruce ready for us?” he said out loud.

“Doctor Banner gave permission for you and your companion to enter, Agent Barton,” a voice announced. Grace searched for whoever said it but saw no one.

The door opened by itself and she pushed down the butterflies rising in her stomach. Standing at the center of the large room, in front of a computer screen, was Bruce Banner, in the flesh.

He approached her slowly, cautious for a reason she didn’t know. “I’m Bruce. You must be Grace,” he said, extending his hand to her.

She didn’t acknowledge him at all. She didn’t even move, just stared wide-eyed at him so long he got uncomfortable.

He looked at Clint, who sighed. “She’s geeking out. She’ll snap out of it any minute now. I hope.”

Two more minutes passed, and she hadn’t so much as blinked. Clint waved his hand in front of her eyes, and she shook herself out of her stupor, a blush rising on her cheeks. She made up for her awkward silence with a display of verbal diarrhea.

“Doctor Banner, it’s an honor to meet you. You are a legend in the scientific community. That I’m also a part of. Because of you. I mean, I just graduated last year, but you really inspired me to learn and do something with my life. It’s an honor to meet you. Did I already say that? Oh, dear.” She trailed off, trying to come up with a way to salvage her first meeting with her hero.

Bruce grabbed Grace’s hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

She winced at the contact but didn't rip her hand away like she wanted to. “Oh wow. I can’t believe my life. It's like I’m a teenager all over again.” 

“Why don't you come take a seat. We can try to figure out what’s going on with your body.”

“There’s a lot going on in my body right now,” she sighed. When she realized what she said, her hand flew to cover her mouth.

“Oh, that's um. I...” Bruce stammered, not used to women acting that way around him. Nerdy scientists tended to be overlooked when compared to super soldiers and Norse gods.

Clint shook his head at their complete lack of social grace. “Grace, I'm heading out. You good here?”

“Oh, sure. That’s fine. I’m sure it’ll be fine, right?” She looked to Bruce, who nodded.  
“When you’re done, tell JARVIS and I’ll come back for you.”

Grace frowned. “JARVIS?”

“The tower has a built-in artificial intelligence system that Tony designed,” Bruce explained.

Her face lit up. "Was that the voice in the hallway?"

“Yeah.”

“That's so cool! I guess I’ll JARVIS you later, Clint.”

Clint chuckled on his way out. When the door shut, Grace looked at Bruce for instruction.

“Clint filled me in on what you told them earlier, so first, I’d like to get a baseline reading on you. Can you lie on your back in this machine,” he said, gesturing to a large, egg-shaped machine.

She clenched her jaw when she saw how tight it looked on the inside. “There's no other way we can do this, is there?”

“No, it's our best option. Are you claustrophobic?”

She nodded. "How could you tell?"

“Just an instinct; small spaces are a common fear. I'll try to come up with something else.”

“No, no. I can do it. Just, keep talking, okay?”

“You'll be able to see and hear me the whole time.”

The glass dome opened with a soft whoosh, and she slid onto her back in the machine. When she looked settled, Bruce pressed a few buttons. It closed and started up with a hum.

“Tony and I built this machine together. We call it the Vessel. It can read everything inside the human body, including radiation.”

Bruce frowned at the numbers appearing on the screen. Her radiation levels were much higher than normal, not to mention the other obvious signs of distress. “Are you okay? Your heart rate’s a little high.”

Grace didn't respond. She couldn't breathe. Her only focus was the lack of room to move around. She struggled to stay still, to keep from touching the cold walls that surrounded her. Sweat gathered on her forehead and her heart pounded fast and loud in her ears. Soon, the panic would turn into the thing she feared most–arousal.

He pressed the emergency release and the chamber door swung open. Grace sat up and tried to calm down, but there was no use. Only one thing would make the sensations go away, and the longer she denied the urge, the worse things would get.

“I've got to get out of here,” she said, scanning the room for an easy path to the door.

“Hang on, let me help. I believe you’re having a panic attack.”

“No, I’m not. I know what this is. You don’t understand, I’ve got to go.”

“But-” The Geiger counter on Bruce's desk chirped, interrupting him. “Oh, this is remarkable,” he murmured.

“What?”

“When I took your baseline, your gamma output was 43. Now it’s 89. It doubled in just a few minutes. The only time I’ve seen anything like it is with...” he trailed off, uncomfortable bringing up his alter-ego.

“I’m radioactive?”

“Apparently. But I am too.”

“When you’re the Hulk?”

Bruce nodded. “The Other Guy’s maximum output is 700 microsieverts.”

She twisted her bracelet again. “Isn't that dangerous?”

“In theory. Can you tell me what else happens? I’m assuming you don’t turn huge and green. I would have heard reports by now.”

Nervous laughter bubbled from her lips. Bruce was a professional, and the most likely person to  
empathize with her, but she never shared intimate details about herself with people, especially not men.

The longer she sat, consumed by her thoughts, the more the radiation grew. The simmering arousal she was used to feeling shifted into something more.

Her normal sexual inhibition fell away, leaving a new creature. Someone bold, almost primal in her desire. It was that creature who stared at Bruce with hunger in her eyes and licked her lips, before saying, “I want you to touch me.”

He choked on his spit and stared at her.

She pursed her lips and leered at him. “It may not look like it, but I've got a great body under these shapeless clothes. I’m willing to bet you do too. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“JARVIS, privacy protocols,” Bruce said as he rose from his chair.

He couldn't deny that something was different. Everything about her exuded confidence; her mannerisms and speech pattern, even the way she pulled her shoulders back, thrusting her chest out instead of curling in on herself. He felt like a deer being hunted by a cougar the way she stalked toward him until his back hit a wall.

Bruce closed his eyes, trying to steady his racing heart. He shouldn’t be entertaining this; she was too vulnerable. But he was only a man. It would be impossible to be unaffected by the way she pushed his lab coat open and stepped into his space. The heat from her palms made his plaid dress shirt seem far too thin.

She leaned in close and licked the shell of his ear before whispering, “Admit it, you want me.”

“I can't. We may have just met, but I can tell this isn't normal behavior for you.”

“Does it matter? We're consenting adults, there's nothing wrong with indulging a little,” she simpered, nuzzling her nose along the thick tendons in his neck. “Bend me right over that desk and-”

He cleared his throat hard. "I can't."

“Sure you can,” she whispered, unbuttoning his collar. He was sweating, his masculine aroma musky and heavy as it filled her nose, and it only turned her on more.

"Why don't I run a couple tests? This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about what’s going on."

Grace pushed her lower lip out and looked up at him through her eyelashes as she undid the next button, exposing the dark curls that covered his chest. “Don't make me take care of it alone.”

“What?”

She pressed her body against him and held his face in her hands, forcing him to stare into her eyes. “If you make me come, then all this will stop. On second thought, maybe I should keep it going.”

He had to buy time. “First, I need to understand why this is happening. You can’t consent in this state, and I won’t allow anyone to cross that line with you until you’ve given permission.”

“But I want you,” she pouted.

“The Hulk makes me volatile, unstable. I can’t make you any promises, but I’ll do some research and consider it.”

Her face radiated pure joy and Bruce felt a twinge of pride at her reaction. He wasn’t sure he’d be her best option to gain release, and she might not even want him once she was out of her sexual frenzy, but a man could dream, right?

“I'll step out so you can...” he trailed off and gave a vague hand gesture.

“Why don't you stay? You could watch. I'd put on such a good show for you, Doctor.”

“I’m sure you would,” he said, ignoring the twitch he felt in his groin.

“You can add virtuous to your list of attributes,” she said, but it didn’t sound like a compliment.

He placed his hands on her waist to push her aside, but she shackled his wrists with her hands and slid his hands beneath her shirt, moving them up over her ribcage to her sports bra covered breasts. He clenched his jaw and tried to pull his hands free, but her grip was stronger than he’d expected. His palms tickled her stiffened nipples through the cotton fabric, and her eyes fluttered shut as she massaged herself with his hands.

Bruce didn’t want to just rip himself away. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to injure her, but a tiny part of him enjoyed the contact. It had been years since he had touched a woman. She let out a quiet moan that snapped him back to his senses, and he wrenched his wrists free and slid his hands out of her shirt.

He was scowling, but his dilated pupils betrayed his lust. Grace watched him trying to pull himself together, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.

When he met her eyes, she let her hands drift back to her chest, over her shirt this time so he could watch the way she rolled her nipples between her fingertips. His whole body shuddered, and he ran for the door.

As it slid open, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Come get me when you’re finished,” and disappeared into the hallway.

Safely away from her advances, Bruce relied on his meditation techniques to calm himself down. He prided himself on self-control, but he had come close to losing it. It wasn’t as if she was the first woman to throw herself at him like that. It didn’t happen to him as often as it did to the others, but he wasn’t immune. Something about this was different, but he couldn’t say how. He theorized different explanations until he heard a soft knock from the other side of the door.

He crept into the lab, maintaining a cautious pace in case it was a trick. She didn’t appear to be lying in wait for him, but the tang of her feminine scent hung in the air, making it hard to concentrate. He found Grace in a corner with her head buried under her arms.

Bruce crouched down in front of her. “Are you back?”

Her muffled reply was indistinguishable.

“I’ll take that as a yes since you aren't jumping me.”

She whimpered and curled further into herself. It was her worst-case scenario. Losing it in public? Check. Making a fool of herself in front of someone she respected? Check. The only thing that salvaged the mess was that Bruce had been noble, and she hadn’t lost her virginity.

“I know I can’t truly understand what you’re feeling, but believe me when I say I know what it’s like to do things you never intended to. At least for you there was no monumental loss of property, you were just flirting. It was pretty flattering.”

Her head shot up, and she stared at him. “Flattering? You can’t be serious. I acted like a cheap whore, getting in your space, trying to talk you into… that.” She shuddered. There was no way he wasn't disgusted by her.

“You didn't even take any of your clothes off. Tony’s had parties raunchier than that.”

She hid her face again. “Remind me not to go to any of Mr. Stark’s parties. If I even get invited.”

"So, you were aware the whole time?"

"Painfully." 

Bruce returned to his desk to give her a little more privacy. He recorded the data he collected and the theories he came up with in the hall. After a few minutes, he felt her presence behind him, but she said nothing.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Sorry. That has never happened before.”

“No need for apologies. It was a great learning experience. I _am_ curious what was different this time. Can you think of anything?”

Grace pondered for a moment before thinking of one possibility. “I didn’t take care of it right away. Usually I get it under control within five minutes. We had to have been talking for at least ten.”

Bruce nodded, scribbling in his notebook. “How long would you say it lasted in the past?”

“The most was eight minutes. I always had an escape plan, just in case.”

“Is it always triggered by claustrophobia?”

She grimaced. “No, there are a couple different things. I’ve got it all written down. Could I just bring you my journals?”

“You brought them with you?”

“I figured it might help. Maybe you can find a pattern or something.”

“That might save us a lot of time and experimentation. You sure you don’t mind?”

“It's better than saying it all out loud,” she said.

Bruce heard her but didn’t comment. She’d gone beyond her comfort zone enough for one day.

“Could you do me a favor?” she said.

“I think so.”

Grace stared into her lap and made sure the knots on her bracelet were snug. “When you read the journals, there will be a lot of personal details about me, stuff I don’t share with anyone. I'm only letting you see because it might help you figure out what’s the matter with me.”

“And you want me to keep it to myself?”

Grace let out a soft sigh. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but when you read it, you’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Everyone here has secrets and pain they’d rather not share. You’re not the first, and not the last. If you ever want talk about it, no one would judge.”

“I believe you. Maybe someday.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure this out on your own, but if you _do_ decide to tell someone else, don’t start with Tony. He can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

Grace made a lopsided smile and said, “I kind of figured that, after the whole ‘I am Iron Man’ thing. Thanks for the warning.”

“I think we can stop for now until I’ve read your journals if that's alright with you.”

“Oh, thank God. Thanks for not making a big deal out of everything.”

A soft smile lit up Bruce's face. “That’s what I do. Want me to call Clint down for you?”

She shrugged. “Could you teach me how to use... whatever you called it?”

“JARVIS. He’s everywhere, so if you need something, address him like you would anyone else.”

Grace looked up and stammered, “Um, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Miss Kinney?” The British voice answered.

“It knows my name?”

Bruce grinned. “He picks up on everything. If Natasha told Tony you're here, I’m sure he and JARVIS already know more about you than you do.”

The color washed out of her face.

Bruce noticed her expression. “Don’t worry, there isn’t any video of you in here. I used my privacy protocols to turn off the microphones and cameras.”

“At least that’s something. JARVIS, can you tell Clint I’m ready for him?”

“He will be here for you in three minutes.”

She looked at Bruce again with a shy smile. “That was weird but cool. Thank you for all your help. I'll bring my journals when I get my stuff from Natasha.”

He nodded, and she waved goodbye, moving into the hallway to wait. Within a few minutes, Clint appeared behind her.

“How’d it go?”

She yelped and jumped almost a foot into the air. “Where did you come from? You don't sneak up on people. You better not do that to me ever again.”

“I’m like a ninja. I move like a shadow on a moonless night.”

She scoffed. “Whatever, weirdo. Next time you scare me, you’ll probably get punched, so consider yourself warned.”

"Sheesh, fine. I’ll try to walk louder around you or something. Don’t hit me, I’m fragile," he said, holding his hands up to shield himself in case she changed her mind.

"Can we go find my suitcase?"

“Sure thing, kid.”

Grace frowned. “How old are you?”

“Just turned forty-three last week. Why?”

Her mouth fell open and she scrutinized his face, searching for wrinkles. “I figured you were in your thirties. I was going to tell you to stop calling me a kid, but I guess a seventeen year age gap does make me a kid, old man.”

Clint laughed until he was bent over wheezing. “I’m not even the oldest. All of us are over forty, except Nat and Steve. Well, Steve’s technically ninety-six, but I’m sure you know the story.”

He did the math in his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not twenty-six. You look like you’re barely out of college.”

She frowned. “Well, I did just graduate last year, but I didn’t start until I turned twenty-one, and I took five years to finish.”

“No way.”

“I was a little behind in high school. It’s not unheard of,” she snapped.

Clint put his hands up in surrender. "I believe you. Forget I said anything. Let’s go find your stuff."

* * *

They found Natasha in the common room. She glanced up from her laptop and smiled. “Done already?”

Grace sat across the table from her. “For now.”

Natasha reached under the table and pulled out the suitcase. “You’ll be on the 84th floor. Rogers' apartment is down the hall, but he only stays there occasionally.”

“Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah, think you can handle that?”

A blush rose on her cheeks. She had seen pictures and even fantasized about him once or twice. And now they would be neighbors. The thought of interacting with him sent a wave of butterflies through her stomach.

She waved it off. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be completely alone. If you need anything, Clint and I are on 86. Want me to show you the way?”

“You don’t have to go out of your way, I'm sure I can figure it out. I need to take my journals to Bruce before that, anyway.”

Natasha nodded. “No problem. If you need anything, just tell JARVIS.”

"Will do. Thanks Natasha." 

"Don't mention it."


	4. Forging Friendships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks WillowOdair for your awesome comments. They gave me the push I needed to edit this beast of a chapter and get it posted today.

After Grace dropped the journals off, JARVIS led the way to her apartment. As she stepped through the doorway, her suitcase slipped from her fingers. The living space was larger and nicer than any place she had ever stayed. She found the bedroom and threw herself down on the bed to test it out. It was so comfortable that she fell asleep.

Several hours later, JARVIS’s crisp voice jolted her awake. “Miss Kinney, Agent Romanov requests your presence in the communal dining room.”

She blinked the sleep from her eyes and frowned at the unfamiliar room. When she realized what had woken her up, the day's events came back and her stomach twisted in knots.

“I’m not ready to meet everyone. My hair probably looks like a rats nest. How long was I out?”

“Three hours and six minutes,” JARVIS answered.

“How am I going to sleep tonight?” she said under her breath. “How long do I have?”

“Agent Romanov gave you a twenty-minute buffer.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I can work with that. Could you let me know when I have five minutes left, JARVIS?”

“Of course.”

Grace dug through her bag and found a nice sweater and one of her better pairs of jeans. When she took her bag of toiletries into the bathroom, she was amazed all over again. There was a large, freestanding tub she couldn’t wait to soak in, as well as a glass-walled spiral shower that was unlike anything she had ever seen. She made a mental note to test it out when she got back to her room.

When she looked in the mirror, she found her hair wasn’t as messy as she’d expected, so she pulled it into a low ponytail and slid a headband on to mask some of the frizz. She considered taking off her bracelet but decided against it; she would most likely need something to ground her.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Miss Kinney?”

“Can you see me?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

She held her arms out straight and turned in an awkward circle. “Do I look okay?”

“I believe you are presentable.”

“Well, that’ll do. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Exit your room, then follow the lights on the floor.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. May I help with anything else?”

“I think I’m good,” she said then followed the lights to the common room. Natasha and Bruce were already there, and they waved her over.

Natasha eyed her. “You look rested.”

“I fell asleep. Busy day, I guess.”

“Ready to meet the guys?”

“I guess. Everyone’s coming?”

“All but Thor. He’s off in Europe with his girlfriend.”

Grace flinched as AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill boomed through the room just before Tony Stark threw the door open and sauntered up to them, visually sizing her up before plastering on his signature smirk. “Tony Stark. You must be Bruce’s little project.”

Grace glanced at Bruce out of the corner of her eye. “My name is Grace.”

“How's the room?”

“It’s amazing. Thank you for opening your home to me.”

“Kid, this isn’t my home. It’s my baby; my pride and joy. Calling it my home is grossly undervaluing it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, hand automatically going to her wrist.

He looked disappointed. “Sorry? Not even going to argue with me? I pictured you with a little more fire.”

She hesitated. What if he kicked her out? She had to make a better first impression than that, so she plastered on a smile and extended her hand against her better judgement. “Can we start over? I’m Grace Kinney. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

He shook his head and left her hanging. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

Her smile tightened as she dropped her hand back to her side and she said, “If that’s what it takes for you to stop scowling.”

He grunted, and she stared at his back as he wandered to the bar for a drink. She'd always wondered whether the media painted him in a bad light, but so far she wasn't impressed with him as a person. During their conversation, Steve and Clint had entered the room and were standing right behind Grace. Steve was about to clear his throat, but Clint grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Don't startle her, she might punch you,” he whispered so only Steve could hear.

“Look who finally showed up,” Natasha said, turning around. Grace followed her lead and came face to face with Steve Rogers. “Steve, I’d like you to meet Grace. She’s one of us.”

“A science experiment, an assassin, or a billionaire?”

Grace gave a short laugh and said, “Science experiment, though I’m nowhere near as spectacular as the rest of you.”

When he moved to shake her hand, she clenched both hands into fists and took a small step back. He froze, looking at her with concern, but didn’t call her out.

“You’re bigger than I expected,” she said, trying to be casual about doing exactly what Tony had just done to her. It wasn't personal, she just had a thing about being the one to initiate physical contact.

“Watch out Cap, she's a major fangirl. She'll put her foot in her mouth before long,” Clint said with a grin.

Tony scoffed from the bar. “I call bullshit. She was strictly cordial to me, and I'm _easily_ the most popular.”

“Maybe in some circles,” Grace retorted. Tony tipped his head and sipped his drink.

Steve grinned at her boldness. “If you can hold your own against Tony, you’ll be just fine.”

“I didn’t get this far in life without learning to stand up to bullies.”

Everyone but Tony laughed, and the awkward tension in the room dissipated. They all got comfortable on the sofas and started sharing stories with Grace, eager to have fresh ears to hear their tales. When the subject of Grace’s age came up, Tony couldn’t help but chime in.

“Are you even legal yet? The tower doesn’t have a babysitting service,” he said, finally inebriated enough to socialize.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t need a babysitter, she’s an adult.”

“You’re just vouching for her because she’s a gamma-baby like you,” Tony said.

When the others jumped in to defend her, the argument escalated fast. Grace clenched her jaw and tried to ignore them. People always underestimated her because she looked young and didn't assert herself unless she had to. She usually laughed it off like it was nothing, but it wasn’t. The commotion assaulted her ears until she couldn’t take it anymore and stood.

“Stop it!” she shouted. “You’re sitting here talking about me like I'm not even here. None of you know me, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. My life was going fine, until today, when you decided I couldn’t be trusted to take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. I've been handling things for myself for longer than anyone should have to.” When she stopped talking, her chest heaved and her fists were shaking at her sides.

Bruce watched for any sign that she was about to lose control, but nothing happened. As her anger dissipated, she sat back down and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize. You were right; you’ve given us no reason to treat you like a child,” Natasha said, silencing the rest of them her eyes.

Clint patted Grace’s shoulder, and she only flinched a little. “You already fit in perfectly.”

* * *

The next morning, Grace met Bruce in the lab. Her journals were scattered all over, with vibrant sticky notes accenting the pages.

“Did you even sleep last night?” she said.

Bruce gave her a guilty shrug. “I got sucked in. I haven’t done anything like this in a while.”

“Did you figure anything out?”

Bruce nodded as he pulled out a separate notebook and flipped to the beginning. “From what I read, your childhood was traumatic, somewhat like my own. My father was an angry, violent man who took it out on my mother and I until he killed her. To put it simply, I never dealt with the anger I felt, and it created a split personality in me. My exposure to radiation activated that personality and gave it a physical manifestation. I believe the same happened to you, but instead of anger, you repressed your sexuality.”

Grace’s eyes were shiny with tears, both for Bruce and for her. She didn’t think back on the painful memories of her past often, but having another person know what took place and seem to understand gave her validation she didn't know she needed.

“So, what do we do?”

“To start with, I’d like to show you a list I made of possible triggers I made based on your notes.” He turned several pages in his book and held it out for her to see. “Your claustrophobia is a definite trigger, as we saw yesterday. Being reminded of your mother is another. I’m not entirely sure about the rest, but some of your episodes happened after you’d been alone for long periods of time. Does that sound right?”

“Yeah. I was alone a lot growing up, I guess I’m kind of dependent on human contact now, even when I don't really want it.”

“Companionship is in our nature.”

"So, basically I should stay out of tight spaces, avoid people who remind me of _her_ , and try not to be alone?”

“It’s worth a shot. Now that you’re here, JARVIS can monitor you and we can get definitive readings on any other triggers.”

“That doesn’t seem very proactive.”

“It’s not, but there’s only so much I can glean from the journals. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve helped a lot, but quite a few of the incidents seemed to be random. We’re missing some pieces of the puzzle.”

“So, I’ll just go about my business, then? I don’t know what to do with myself here.”

“Why don’t you try to make some friends?”

Grace let out a small puff of air through her nose. “With who? You guys? You don’t want to be friends with someone like me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I’m nobody. I don’t have anything to bring to the table.”

Bruce studied the way she closed herself off from him physically, crossing her arms over her chest and not meeting his eyes. “I can’t speak for the others, but I want to get to know you. The real you, not the person you think you should be.”

She frowned. Her endeavors to make friends hadn’t gone so well in the past. No matter what she did, it wasn’t enough to keep them around, just like her mother had promised.

“Well, I’ve got to call home and check in. I’ll see you later, okay?” she said, sneaking toward the door.

Bruce sighed and nodded. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

After she darted out the door, Bruce pulled out his cell phone and called Natasha.

“What?”

“I think Grace needs a friend.”

“And you think it should be me?”

“I just thought you might be able to break through her walls. You’re good at that. Please, Natasha, she’s really hurting.”

“I’ll do my best,” Natasha said after a brief pause, then ended the call.

* * *

A few hours later, there was a knock at Grace’s door. She opened it and found Natasha standing there with a bottle of wine and a movie.

“What’s all this?”

“I’ve been waiting forever for another girl to move in. I thought we could hang out.”

“Oh, I guess we could do that.”

Natasha breezed into the room and got the movie started. “Would you grab a couple wine glasses?”

“Sure,” Grace answered slowly. She brought two from the kitchen and set them down on the coffee table, sitting on the opposite side of the couch from the other woman. She sat there with perfect posture like she was at some kind of interview.

At the movie’s halfway point, and after a glass and a half of wine, Grace loosened up and drifted toward the middle of the couch, curling her feet up under her.

She looked at Natasha. “What’s it like being a badass?”

“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. What’s it like being you?”

Grace frowned and traced the clasp of her bracelet. “Lonely I guess.”

“Don’t have a lot of friends?”

She shook her head. "People don't tend to like me much.”

Natasha hummed and processed her answer. “Why not?”

“I don't know why they would. I'm just the weirdo who doesn't know how to interact.” Grace stared at the coffee table and leaned farther away from Natasha.

“I don’t think you’re weird.”

“Well, you just met me. That opinion will probably change.”

“I noticed you didn't shake Steve's hand. Afraid of germs?”

“No, I just don't really like being touched by people,” Grace said, shifting in discomfort. “Why are we talking about me? I bet you’ve got much cooler stories.”

“I'd rather get to know you. I’ve got a good feeling about you, and that’s not something I can say about most people.”

Grace’s face flushed bright red, and she tried to focus on the movie. When she dared to glance over at Natasha, the other woman was smiling at her expectantly. She buried her face in her hands and started to giggle.

“Your reaction to compliments is adorable,” Natasha said.

Grace didn't know what to say, so she just had some more wine and enjoyed the company of someone who didn't seem to realize that she wasn't worth the effort.After the first movie night went so well, Natasha started dropping by as often as she could. She didn’t always bring the same thing. Sometimes it was a movie, other times it was a game, and occasionally they even left the tower to get dinner. Three weeks, in she started inviting Grace to her apartment. It was then that Grace really started opening up and letting Natasha see the sides of herself she normally hid.

“I don’t know where you learned these moves, but they are terrible,” Natasha said as a tipsy Grace bent forward and jumped up and down in the middle of the living room, her butt jiggling like a bowl of jello.

“You think you can do better?” Grace challenged.

“Oh, honey. My job is to use my body to get people to do what I want. Do you honestly think I can’t dance?”

“If you’re so good, why don’t you show me what you've got?”

Natasha moved, standing directly in front of Grace and said, “Watch.” She swiveled her hips in time with the music and gestured for Grace to do the same. “Listen to the beat and don’t worry about what you’re doing, just let the music flow through your body.”

Grace giggled and tried to copy the fluid movements. It wasn’t quite the same when she did it, but it was better than what she had been doing before. She mimicked every move Natasha added into the simple dance, and before long, she started to find her rhythm. When she and Natasha were face to face again, Grace held her hand out for the other woman to take. Natasha raised her eyebrow and Grace nodded, so she took her hand and taught her how to dance with a partner.

After several songs and lots of laughing, they stopped to get some water. “That was amazing. I bet I almost looked good,” Grace said with a wide smile.

Natasha smiled back at her. “You picked it up quick. When I taught Clint it took months.”

“Have you taught anyone else?”

“Not anyone here. Tony has his own style, mastered from years of being a playboy, I assume, and Steve can dance, he’s just a little old-fashioned. One of these days someone needs to teach him how we dance in this century.”

“Why don’t you?” Grace said, taking another sip of water.

“I don’t want to be the one to corrupt America’s sweetheart. Maybe you can do it,” Natasha teased with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Grace choked, spitting water all over her lap. She coughed and hacked until tears trailed down her cheeks and she finally caught her breath.

Natasha stifled a laugh with her hand. “You okay?”

“Yep. Next time you say something like that, make sure I’m not eating or drinking anything.”

“Will do. So, are you going to do it?”

“What?”

“Teach Steve to grind.”

Grace’s cheeks turned bright red, as usual. “I don’t think so. I haven’t even talked to him since my first day here.”

“Why not? He’s pretty good company.”

“I don’t need more company, I already have you.”

Natasha shrugged. “Nothing wrong with having more than one friend. You never know when I’ll be called out for a mission for weeks at a time.”

Grace frowned but nodded. She hadn't considered that she might need a backup friend. “Maybe. I don’t think he’s an option though.”

“Why?”

“He’s just... I don't know. A guy, I guess. I don’t think I could ever be comfortable around him like I am around you.”

“You seem fine with Bruce and Clint, and they’re guys.”

“I know, but I’m kind of,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “attracted to him.”

Natasha’s eyes lit up and Grace frowned at her. “Don’t go getting any ideas, missy. Half of the world is attracted to him; it doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I don’t date.”

“Who said anything about dating? I said you should be his friend.” 

“We’ll see,” Grace said, but she wasn’t planning on it.

* * *

After her confession, she started bumping into Steve in the hall every other day. She discovered that he was staying at the tower for a couple weeks and decided to be friendly. What did she have to lose, right? They didn't hang out, but the awkward greetings soon became actual conversations. She’d been working up the courage to invite him to movie night when he abruptly returned to D.C. and her bravery went out the window.

Grace was in the kitchen fixing dinner when she heard a loud knock on the door. She wiped her hands on the back of her pants and opened the door to find Natasha, or more accurately, the Black Widow. Grace had spent enough time with her to be able to tell the difference between her and her alter-ego. Natasha was warm with those she cared about, often sarcastic, but in a playful way. Widow was cold and calculating; everything about her felt lethal, even the way her eyes seemed to see down to your very soul.

“Mission?” Grace said.

Widow’s eyes tightened. “I have a feeling it’s going to be big. I need you to stay in the tower until I get back. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t leave with anyone but you, so that shouldn’t be a problem. How long will you be gone?”

“Don’t know. Could be a while.”

“Okay.”

Widow turned to walk away, but Grace reached out to grab her shoulder. When she looked back at her, Grace said, “Don’t die. I can’t… I need you to come back.”

Widow’s eyes softened, and Natasha bled through long enough to pull Grace into a tight hug. When they broke apart, Grace wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes. 

Natasha blinked hers away and steeled herself with a deep breath before walking away in silence.

Grace wrapped her arms around herself and nudged the door shut with her foot. She got her phone from her room and scrolled through the contacts, pausing for a second at Bruce’s number before scrolling down to her mom’s. It rang three times before she picked up.

“ _Gracie?_ ”

“Who else would it be, mom? Of course, it’s me.”

“ _Don’t sass me. You may have moved to a different state, but I can still come up there and give you a talking to._ ”

Grace started to laugh, but the giggles turned into sobs, and the tears she’d been ignoring since she shut the door started to fall.

“ _What’s going on, sweetheart?_ ”

Grace tried to answer, but her throat clenched around the words, and all that came out of her mouth was a strangled cry.

She turned the phone on speaker and listened the soothing sound of her mother softly singing the song she always sang when Grace was feeling down. It was an old Irish song that Melissa learned from her mother when she was a child, and no matter what was wrong, it made Grace feel better. After a few verses, all that was left of her distress were sporadic shuddering breaths.

“ _Better?_ ” her mom said.

“Much. You should record that so I can listen to it whenever I need it now that you’re not here to sing it for me anymore.”

“ _If you tell me how I will. Now, what’s going on?_ ”

“Natasha left for a mission, and I think something bad is happening. I’m worried about her, and I guess I’m just scared to be alone.” 

“ _What do I always say? Worrying never solved anything. I know that doesn't fix it, but you should find something to focus on. Have you been painting?_ ”

“No. I've been spending most of my time with Natasha, and now that she’s gone it feels like I've got nothing.”

“ _Find something that's just for you. Anything to occupy your mind all on your own. I know you can get through this._ ”

“I didn't bring any of my books or my art stuff.”

“ _I'll box up some of it and send it first thing in the morning. Need anything else?_ ”

“I'm not sure. Maybe some cookies?” Grace said, sounding hopeful.

“ _I'm going to have to do next day delivery so they stay fresh._ ”

Grace winced. “If it's too expensive, you can skip the cookies.”

“ _You're worth it. Do you want the chocolate ones?_ ”

“That would be perfect. Thanks, Mom.”

“ _You're welcome. Feeling better?_ ”

“I think so. Thanks for singing.”

“ _All you ever have to do is ask. I've got to get those cookies started, but call if you need me. Love you, Gracie._ ”

“Will do. Love you too. Bye, Mom.”

When she hung up, the heavy feeling returned, though it was lighter than before. Grace didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, but she dumped the noodles she’d cooked into a bowl and flopped down on the couch, resting her dinner on a pillow on her lap. She clicked on the TV.

Ordinarily she didn’t watch the news. It was always depressing, but this time it might have information about her friends, so she risked the sad stories. The major news stations had no mentions of Captain America or anything substantial at all. She groaned and shoveled noodles into her mouth. It wasn’t the first time Natasha had gone on a mission since she’d moved in, but this time felt different.

She sat on the couch until eleven, waiting for a “breaking news” interruption that never came. After checking that the volume was up on her phone for the fifth time, she headed to bed. The softness of her sheets normally eased her into quick slumber, but that night she felt suffocated by them, so she dug through a box in her closet for the blanket her mom sent from her old bed. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the expensive bedding Tony supplied for her, but it was familiar and infinitely more comforting. She pulled it around her shoulders like a cape and grabbed the family photo from her nightstand, curling up on top of her comforter with them. After twenty minutes, she fell into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, she woke early, feeling no more rested than she had the night before. Even a long shower did nothing to improve her mood. She combed through her wet hair in the mirror and stared at the faint purple circles under her eyes. Nothing she had in her makeup bag would be able to hide them, so she decided to forego all of it, haphazardly gathering her hair into a sloppy bun. She topped off the look with a ratty pair of sweats and an old t-shirt.

After a bowl of cereal, she dragged herself to Bruce’s lab, repeatedly thumping her head against the cool metal door until it opened.

“Tony, you know you can knock like a normal–” Bruce stopped talking as soon as he saw who was actually standing in his doorway. “Whoa, Grace? I… come on in.”

She shuffled past him to sit on a stool near his workspace.

“So, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Been busy?” Bruce said.

She grunted in response.

He frowned. It wasn’t like her to be so sloppy. Not that she dressed up all the time, but he had never seen her in such a state of disarray. “Are you sick?” he asked slowly.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

He rubbed his hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, feel free to hang out. I don’t mind the company.”

She nodded and rested her arms on the table, then laid her head on top of them. Bruce got absorbed in his work, forgetting that she was even there until her raspy voice caught his attention. 

“Do you know where she went?”

He looked up to find her staring at him with a blank face. “Who?”

“Natasha.”

“Oh, is that who you’ve been hanging around with?” He tried to be nonchalant, not wanting to tell her that he’d convinced the other woman to befriend her.

“She told me you asked her to talk to me, you can stop doing that.”

“Ugh. She didn’t tell me she told you.”

“Probably for this exact reason. You don’t have to keep secrets from me, you know. I’m not that pathetic.”

“I never said you were, I just… well, I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t do it for that reason.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“No, I didn’t even know she left. I’m sure she’ll be back in a few days.”

Grace shrugged and dropped the subject. They went on again in silence until Bruce spoke. “Any new incidents?”

“No. I guess I’ve been pretty happy lately. And there are no closets small enough to feel trapped in here.”

Bruce chuckled in agreement. “Even the broom closets are bigger than some apartments in this city.”

They spent the rest of the day like that, mostly silent with the occasional question. When Grace got up to leave for dinner, Bruce stopped her.

“Want to have dinner with me?”

“Um, are you sure?”

“Of course, I don’t usually get to eat with company.”

“Okay,” Grace said with a smile. She and Natasha had planned on a movie night that was no longer going to happen, and if she went back to her room alone, she’d just sit and troll the news channels again until she passed out.

“Do you like Indian?”

“Never tried it, but I’m not picky.”

Bruce nodded, “Indian it is. I picked up some great recipes during my time in Calcutta.”

“Oh?”

He launched into a story as they rode the elevator to his apartment. Dinner took a while, but Grace was grateful for the company and helped any way he would let her. As it turned out, she liked Indian food, particularly the flatbread served on the side of the coconut curry. The food and conversation helped to draw her out of her funk, and when she went back to her room, she didn’t even turn on the TV, just crawled under her blanket and went to sleep.


	5. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace has a nightmare, and loses control. Who will come to her rescue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little sexiness to tide everyone over until I get the next chapter finished. It was originally like 4500 words, but I cut it in half so I could get it up today. I'll be adding a little extra juice to the next chapter to make up for it. 
> 
> I didn't edit this part as much as I normally do, so let me know if you see any blaring errors.

The days crawled by and almost every morning found Grace in the lab with Bruce, until Tony roped him into some project two weeks in. Having nothing else to do, she started watching the news again. Every station was buzzing about SHIELD, Hydra, and a massive amount of leaked documents. As it turned out, SHIELD had a lot of skeletons in the closet and the news was having a field day. Almost four weeks after Natasha and Steve left, the speculation about the pasts of the Avengers began, and Grace stopped watching. 

That night she had a nightmare. It was a recurring dream she’d had since she ran away from home, but it had been over a year since the last one. It started out the same. She was seated at the kitchen table of her childhood home in Walnut, Mississippi. The yellowing floral wallpaper was still peeling from the walls; the pots and pans were still in the sink. Everything about the dream was the same until her mother started speaking. 

This time, instead of telling Grace that she was a good-for-nothing waste of space, her mother said, “That girl ain’t your friend. She don’t need no small-town girl mucking up her life. You ain’t special. You don’t belong up there with all of them heroes. You ain't even smart enough to get out of this town.” 

Grace wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her she was wrong, but just like when she was a child, she couldn’t speak up for herself. She sat with silent tears rolling down her cheeks, the cruel words echoing in her ears. Her dream mother cycled through each of her new friends, explaining exactly why they would never want her. She was pathetic. She’d never be enough. Why would anyone waste their time on a girl like her who would only disappoint them?

When her mother started talking about Steve and how he'd take what he wanted and throw her aside like trash, something deep inside her chest ached. A high-pitched wail drowned out the insults. She looked around, but couldn’t find the source of the piercing sound. When her mother’s cold hand reached out to grip her chin, to force her to pay attention, she lashed out with her fists, making contact with something warm. 

The unfamiliar sensation was enough to break the nightmare’s hold, and she woke, cradled in someone’s arms. Her cheeks were damp with tears so she buried her face in the firm chest and continued to cry. Whoever was holding her held on tight and stroked her back. 

When her sobs softened into occasional shuddering breaths, a deep voice asked if she was okay and she stiffened. She knew that voice. It was Steve. Steve was back. And he was in her bedroom. That thing inside her that made her shy away from affection kicked into high gear and she grunted, then curled in on herself, screwing her eyes shut and trying to think of any way to get him to stop touching her. Her voice wouldn’t come. Her body was doing its own thing. 

Thankfully, he noticed that something was off and let her body flop to the side, scooting back to the edge of the bed. He didn’t speak, in case that was the problem. He just watched.

There was no way Steve would be her friend now. He'd seen her at the worst, crying in bed because of a silly dream. How did he even get in here in the first place? She might as well just pack up and leave now, because there was no way to get past this. She could never look him in the eye again. 

"Grace?"

She forced herself to look at him, forcing her inner turmoil to the side for a moment. His eyes were full of concern and he leaned a little closer. “You were screaming.” 

She sat up, and moved away until her back hit the headboard. “Bad dream. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re sweating.”

She frowned and started paying attention to her body. The first thing she noticed was the tingling. It was strong. She should have felt it earlier, but the panic attack drowned everything else out. The heavy ache of arousal was impossible to ignore. She sniffed the air deeply and Steve’s scent tipped her over the edge. He smelled like clean laundry and something distinctly male. 

“Miss Kinney, you are exhibiting signs of a shift, shall I contact Doctor Banner?” JARVIS said.

She chuckled low in her throat and appraised the body in front of her Her pelvic muscles clenched as she focused on Steve’s bulging muscles. He called to her on a primal level; the ideal protector. “I’ve got all the help I need right here.”

“Understood,” Jarvis said.

She crawled across the mattress toward Steve. He watched her curiously, until she was directly in front of his face, staring at his lips and licking her own. She braced both hands on his shoulders and threw her right leg over him to straddle his thighs. It was only then that he really looked at her. 

She was dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. He hesitated for a moment, but rested his hands on her bare thighs, jerking them back when he felt the heat radiating from her skin. “Are you sick? Your skin is way too hot.”

“It’s nothing you can’t fix.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed and he tried to lean back, but she wrapped one arm around the back of his neck and pulled him in close. His chin rested between her breasts and she looked down at him through half-lidded eyes. She licked her lips and whispered his name. 

His mouth went dry, and he thought back to the day Tony had commented that Grace was probably a wildcat in bed. Her face had turned bright red, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t spoken to Tony since. Everything about the way she was acting was strange. “Something has to be wrong. I’m going to call Bruce.”

She held his face in her hands, stroking his recently shaven cheeks with her thumbs. Her hips were gyrating against him rhythmically like she was dancing to music he couldn’t hear. 

“I don't want him,” she said, rolling his bottom lip down with her thumb into a pout. “I want you.” 

Before he could utter another word, she sealed her lips over his and sucked, kissing him hard. His eyelids grew wide, before snapping shut as he kissed back. The kiss easily outshined the one he shared with Natasha on the escalator in the mall or any he could remember having since leaving the ice. 

When she moaned against his lips, he couldn’t stop his hands from rising up underneath her shirt to grip her waist. He stretched his fingers as far as he could, almost able to completely encircle her abdomen. As he tightened his hold, she breathed a loud sigh and tightened her thighs around him.

“What are you doing to me?” he groaned. 

She pressed her lips chastely to his one more time before threading her fingers through the soft hair at his crown until she had enough purchase to tilt his head back. He whimpered softly as she continued to tug, his sounds growing louder as she licked a hot stripe from the hollow of his throat to his jaw. She nipped and sucked at his skin, finding every spot that drew those deep, throaty sounds from him. 

The smell of her arousal saturated the air, now impossible to ignore. Something in the back of Steve’s mind nagged at him, telling him it was wrong. He latched onto the thought and shuffled her off his lap and onto her bed before he stood and walked to the opposite side of the room. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear his pulse in his ears, and he could feel the throb of the erection being smothered in his tactical pants. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t, not like this.”

She watched him start to move for the door and said, “Stop,” her voice hard and commanding. He did, looking back at her. It was a huge mistake. She was up on her knees, holding her shirt up just enough to expose her blue cotton panties. The patch between her thighs was darkened with her fluids, and he fought the urge to push her back on the mattress and taste her. Her thighs shifted as she stood, and his eyes darted up to meet hers, his cheeks flushed bright red. She let her shirt fall back into place and walked over to stand in front of him, gazing up into his eyes. 

He hissed as her palm groped his painfully hard cock through his pants. She smirked at his reaction and began undoing the buttons on his pants. When she got them open enough to see a coarse patch of golden brown hair, she hummed in delight and said, “No underwear, Captain? Makes my job a lot easier,” then stuffed her hand into his pants until she was stroking the velvety smooth skin that covered his hard length. 

His head fell back and he made a sound like a wounded animal. The way he shuddered beneath her touch made Grace feel powerful. She wanted to make him come undone, not even worrying about her own pleasure anymore. As she reached for his zipper, someone pounded on her front door. 

Steve jumped, and Grace jerked her hand out of his pants, uttering a string of curses that surprised the hell out of him. “I’ll get that. Just stay here. I’ll… be back,” he said, awkwardly squeezing both her shoulders before dashing to the safety of the other room. 

He jerked the door open and found Tony and Bruce on the other side. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Tony furrowed his brow. “What’re you doing in Bambi’s room, Rogers?”

Steve’s cheeks burned deep red as he tried to find an answer that wouldn’t make him sound like a creep. “She was screaming in her sleep, I came to make sure she was alright.”

Tony had a sixth sense for anything naughty, and everything about Steve screamed sex. “Well, isn’t that nice of you. Were you about to take a shower when you heard her?” 

“Huh? No.” 

“Really?” Tony said with false innocence. “Then how come your pants are practically falling off?”

Bruce looked down and coughed. Tony was right, he could almost see Steve’s dick, his pants were slung so low. Only the fact that his zipper was still halfway up kept them from seeing way more of him than they ever wanted to.

Steve rushed to fasten his pants, but the damage was done. Tony would never let him live it down. “Why are you even here, Tony?”

“Bruce said something was wrong with Grace, I decided to tag along.” 

Steve rubbed the back of his head and winced. “You might be right about that. She’s acting pretty strange.”  
“Is she coming onto you?” Bruce said with a frown.

Steve looked surprised. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen it before. You probably shouldn’t be in there with her. She can’t give consent in this state. If you gave in it wouldn’t be right.” 

Tony gathered that he was missing some information. He turned an accusatory eye to Bruce. “What state is she in?”

“I’m sorry, Tony. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Not your... Did you learn nothing from the SHIELD shit-storm? Secrets don't make friends.” Tony spat, attempting to squeeze past Steve.

Steve blocked him, but Tony didn’t give up trying to push his way into the apartment. Bruce held his arms up between the two men. “Tony, quit. Steve, I've been with Grace during several of these, I know how to handle it. Just let me in.”

Tony was ten seconds away from stomping his foot like an angry toddler. “What needs handling?”

“She’s going to have to tell you that on her own, Tony. I gave her my word.”

“Whatever it is, I'm finding out right fucking now. Nobody keeps secrets in my house,” Tony said, shouting, “Come on Bambi, since it’s your secret, why don’t you get out here and share it with the rest of the class.”

Steve was starting to get irritated. Something was definitely wrong with Grace, but Tony had no right to try and force it out of her. He was about to slam the door in both of their faces, but a hand touched his back and he let out a low groan at the wave of pure lust that coursed through him. If they had missed his boner before, there was no way they would be able to ignore it now. He could feel the pulsing ache intensifying as he grew impossibly hard, and his eyes fell shut.

Tony and Bruce stared at him, then looked at each other in shock. Grace stepped under Steve's arm and into the doorway with a wicked grin. He clutched at her body, one hand coming to rest on her breast, the other sliding low on her hips. He pulled her roughly against him, grinding against her lower back, unconcerned about their audience.

His behavior wasn’t even the strangest thing happening. Grace’s skin was bright pink, from her toes up to her hairline. It wasn’t like a blush; the color was fluorescent, like a highlighter. She bit her lip and gave Tony a leer that put his to shame. “What’s the matter, Tony? There’s more than enough of me to go around. Why don’t we turn this into a party?”

Tony’s mouth fell open and all he could do was stare. The most prudish person he’d ever met was offering him group sex? Had he died and gone to heaven? 

Steve whimpered at her and stuck his lower lip out in a childlike pout. “I thought I was the only one you needed, sweetheart.” Grace turned in his arms and started soothing him, rubbing her hands up and down his body.

“She's not in control, nobody should be touching her at all without prior consent,” Bruce said. “How long has she been like this?”

Steve wasn’t acknowledging anyone but Grace, so JARVIS answered for him.

“Miss Kinney experienced the first spike of radiation twenty-eight minutes ago, in response to a panic attack.”

Bruce hissed through his teeth. “That’s the longest it has ever been. What are her physical readings?”

“Her gamma output is 476 and her body temperature has reached 103.8 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Grace was starting to slide her hands up under Steve’s shirt, so Bruce grabbed her shoulder and turned her to face him. Even through her shirt, he could tell her skin was unbearably hot.

“Grace, you’ve got to stop. Look at your skin, you need to get it back under control.”

“I was trying to, then you idiots interrupted,” she said, casually inspecting her pink hand.

“I thought you were alone. JARVIS didn't mention Steve. Let me get him out of here. You’re affecting him somehow.”

Steve groaned softly, pulling Grace back against his body. “He’s staying. You can either join us or leave.”

“Why don’t we go to the lab? There are radiation shields in there.”

Grace rolled her eyes to the ceiling, exasperated by the entire situation. “I can't wait that long.”

“It's only a few extra minutes.”

“You sure you want me to fuck Steve in your lab?”

Tony, who had been silently watching the whole exchange, squeaked at her use of a curse word. Bruce pulled a sour face. “Um, the hulk chamber might be a better option. There’s monitoring equipment and it can contain the radiation as well.”

“Pardon my interruption, but her radiation level is at 590 and rapidly climbing,” JARVIS said.

“It’s your only option. We can’t risk this.”

She growled. Steve’s touches weren’t enough. She needed his mouth on her, his tongue. He wasn’t even touching her skin, just her shirt, and it was driving her nuts.  
“There wouldn’t be any risk if you weren’t standing here wasting my time!” she snapped, leaning so close Bruce could see her pink irises.

He reached into his coat pocket and uncapped the emergency sedation syringe he kept in case of an accidental hulk-out. Tony noticed what he was doing and opened his mouth, so Bruce shoved him to the ground with his other hand. As Steve and Grace followed the motion with their eyes, he jammed the syringe into her neck, depressing the plunger in less than three seconds. She gasped and her body drooped like cooked spaghetti, then everything turned dark.


	6. Pink Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reworked this chapter after getting some advice, so hopefully the smut portion reads better. I tried not to change TOO much... but a few things are different. I'm working on the next chapter, so hopefully it will be up soon. Realizing you forgot something big really puts a damper on posting time. Thanks for reading!

Steve caught her before she hit the floor and scooped her into his arms, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in his world. He nuzzled her cheek with his nose, before snapping his head up to glare at Bruce, who was clutching the offending syringe with an apologetic expression.

“I didn’t have a choice, Steve. We’ve got to get her somewhere safer. Do you think you can carry her?”

Steve scoffed at the insinuation that carrying her would be difficult. “Of course I can. She’s as light as a feather.”

Tony was still sitting on the floor, rubbing his elbow. “Warn a guy next time. Jesus, Bruce.”

“I’m sorry, I needed the element of surprise. We’re in uncharted territory here.” He pulled Tony up off the floor and motioned for Steve to follow them to the elevator.

They rode in silence until Tony couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore. “So, her alter-ego is a hot pink nympho. I did not see that one coming. Not in a million years. I probably should have. The quiet ones always turn out to be the biggest–”

“Enough,” Bruce snapped, pointedly sliding his eyes over his shoulder to Steve, who was standing behind them rubbing his cheek on Grace’s forehead with his menacing eyes locked on Tony.

Tony, being himself, kept talking. "Don't get me wrong, I think it's pretty fucking awesome. Probably should have been my super power though. At least I'm not a frigid–" His sentence trailed off into a painful grunt as Bruce's elbow connected with his rib cage.

"I have another dose in my pocket if you don’t shut up," Bruce said. It was a lie, but he wasn’t about to let Tony trash talk his friend, especially when she couldn’t defend herself.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl, but kept his mouth shut until the elevator stopped and Steve strode past them into the chamber. The walls were made of a synthetic compound theoretically capable of withstanding the force of the Hulk at his angriest, and they were soundproof.

The computer confirmed that she was still emitting a heavy dose of radiation, but Steve appeared to be normal, aside from his odd behavior. Bruce called to him through the intercom, “Hey, Steve, why don’t you lay her down and wait out here?” Steve’s responding glare shut him up.

“So, this is nuts, right? Am I in some alternate reality where this is normal behavior? Because it seems like I'm the only one freaking out right now,” Tony said.

Bruce shook his head, but Tony didn’t see. “I thought I understood Grace’s ability, but I’ve never seen her skin change color like that.”

"Wait, wait, wait. They’re both completely out of their fucking minds and her skin is the part that’s bothering you? You turn into the jolly green giant. It stands to reason that you're not the only one who can change colors."

"Well, her behavior isn't new."

“Oh, she put you under her little 'love spell' during your experiments? No wonder you block the video feed every time. Wanted to keep the nympho all for yourself?”

“That’s not how it was. You may be getting off on this, but I’m not. I’m a decent human being.”

A tiny flash of hurt appeared on Tony’s face before he masked it with a glare. "It must be burning you up seeing Rogers with his paws all over her like that."

The muscles in Bruce’s jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth together to contain the venomous words he wanted to spew. He had a lot of things he could say that would hurt Tony, but lashing out just wasn’t his style. He couldn’t afford for it to be, so he remained silent until his teeth began to ache.

* * *

Grace began to twitch, slowly regaining consciousness, so Steve sank gracefully to the floor and repositioned her so she was straddling his lap with her head resting on his chest. The heat from her skin warmed him all the way through to the bone. Before she opened her eyes, she took in his scent and the comforting weight of his arms around her, and looked up into his eyes, finding an unfamiliar expression that intrigued her. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him; the deep lines normally carved across his forehead gone.

A playful smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth as he said, “You back with me, sweetheart?”

She leaned in close and pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. “I sure am, soldier. Care to pick up where we left off?” she said, palming him through his pants.

Blood rushed to his groin, and he stiffened beneath her fingers, so she rubbed her panty-covered mound against him. He gripped her hips and pulled her down hard, giving her the kind of friction she craved. She breathed a sigh of relief, and kissed him, open mouthed and filthy, until they were both gasping for air.

Steve’s large hands moved under her shirt to glide over her lower back. When he tugged on the hem, she raised her arms for him to pull it over her head, revealing her bare, pink skin.

“You look like a fantasy I had when I was a kid,” Steve murmured, caressing her scalding flesh.

“You imagined pink women?” she said breathlessly.

He licked his lips and latched onto one magenta nipple, rolling it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, teasing it until she was clawing at his shoulders with her nails. He smirked and released it with a wet pop, then dragged his mouth across her chest to give her other nipple similar treatment while his hands roamed her body.

“God, your mouth is amazing,” she said, arching her back to press as much of her sensitive flesh into his mouth as she could. He pushed her body away, catching her nipple between his teeth, sending a bolt of sensation straight down to her core, like there was a wire connecting the two. “Ah, what the hell was that?” she groaned.

She trailed her fingertips over his chest, frowning at the rough cotton hiding his skin from her. “Take off your shirt. I need to feel you.”

Steve rose and reached behind his head, tugging the shirt off in one fluid motion, his unmuted scent hitting her like a truck. Her eyes rolled back as she took a deep sniff, humming in pleasure. When her eyes popped back open, she had that predatory look back in her eyes.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties, wiggling them down her thighs and catching them on one foot before flinging them onto their growing pile of clothes with her toes. She caught Steve staring, and she threw him a crooked smile. “I want you naked.”

He kicked his shoes and socks off with mechanical efficiency and dropped his pants, kicking everything to the side. Grace looked him over, panting with need. “Lie on the ground so I can sit on your face.”

Steve nodded and dropped down, only wincing for a second as his back met the cold floor before gesturing with his fingers for her to come over. His silent compliance sent tingles through her scalp, and she got up, standing over his head and looking down at him, appreciating the way his eyes locked on her folds, lust blowing his pupils so wide it nearly swallowed the blue.

He held out his hands and helped her sink down onto her knees with the soles of her feet resting between the hard curves of muscle in his upper arms and her dripping core directly over his open mouth. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her down, diving in with his tongue and humming as he savored the tart acidic flavor. She threw her head back and thrust both hands into his short hair, grinding onto his mouth as hard as he would allow.

She squeezed his head between her knees and cried, “I need more.”

Steve stretched his arms up to cradle her back and slowly rolled them over, covering her body with his and kissing her so deeply it was a wonder she was able to breathe. Her flavor on his tongue fueled her desperation, and she whimpered, “Please, I need it so bad. Make me come.”

He shuddered, then licked his middle finger and reached down between them to sink it inside her. She was so tight, he felt her walls clamping around his single digit. He probed and stroked the smooth skin of her inner walls, occasionally catching on a sensitive place that made her legs jerk beneath the weight of his hips.

When he stroked it hard enough to make her grunt, he smirked and kissed her one last time before dropping down and pressing his flattened tongue over her engorged clit and shaking his head back and forth. She squirmed beneath him, desperate to catch the wave that was hurtling her toward her breaking point.

“Come on, please, please, please,” she groaned, pushing her pussy against his face so hard it almost hurt. He flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth over her clit, his fingers making a loud squelching sound as they pounded in and out of her.

He pressed his palm down on her stomach, curling his finger to hit that tender spot inside her rapidly until she squealed, “Oh fuck,” and her back bowed, bringing her shoulders off the ground. She cried out his name as she came harder than she ever had in her life, a gush of fluid erupting from inside her, drenching Steve’s face and hand.

Grace babbled incoherently as she came down from the high while Steve rubbed his hands over her spasming limbs, telling her how good she did, how sweet she tasted. When her breathing returned to normal and the jerky movements stopped, he pulled his finger from her, crooning apologetically at her helpless whimper.

She giggled, even as a fat tear escaped from the corner of her eye and her body shivered, so Steve lay beside her on the floor, cuddling her against him and stroking her hair until she calmed completely. The pink hue gradually faded from her skin and her lazy smile fell as reality hit her.

Her eyes darted up to Steve’s face. He was bright red and wouldn’t meet her gaze as he covered his prominent erection with his hands. She sat up, covering her body with her hands and shut her eyes.

Tony reached over and hit the button to activate the intercom. “Whoa, Cap? You know how to hit the Holy Grail? There’s no way that’s the first time you’ve eaten pussy. I owe Clint a jet. And I didn’t take you for a gusher, Pinkie Pie. You deserve a round of applause for that ‘O’ face.”

Grace’s head whipped around, noticing the two men standing outside at the desk for the first time. All the blood left her face and her heart rate picked up as she looked for a way to escape. Bruce noticed it on the monitor and slapped Tony on the back of the head.

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Stark,” Steve snarled. Shoving his emotions aside for the moment, he handed Grace a shirt. “Are you okay?”

She took it and nodded, pulling it over her head without making eye contact with Steve. “I don’t know what happened. I didn't mean to,” she said, trying to ignore the rising panic.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no words came, so he closed it again and discreetly passed her the panties from the pile then folded his arms across his chest. She cringed and wadded them up in her fist.

"She's not pink anymore," Tony said.

Grace’s eyes snapped up to Bruce, who looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Can I go?”

“Yeah, all the abnormal readings righted themselves once you... came,” Bruce said with a cringe, and entered the code to unseal the door.

As soon as it was open, Grace ran for the open elevator door. JARVIS could be a real bro sometimes. She leaned against the wall, keeping her mind blank to maintain control. After an eternity, she arrived at her room. As the door clicked shut, she sank to the floor and allowed herself to break down. Her entire body felt cold; she shivered so hard her teeth chattered. She knew it was the adrenaline wearing off, but knowing didn’t make it feel better.

“Do you need any assistance?” JARVIS asked.

“Just activate my privacy protocols?”

“Of course. They shall remain active until you say otherwise.”

She couldn’t find the strength to stand, so she crawled to her bedroom, got into bed, and let the world fall away as she slept.

* * *

Back in the chamber, Steve’s mind was racing. He would never jump into bed with a girl without at least taking them out on a few dates, and he and Grace were casual friends at best. Sure, she was kind of cute, but he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He’d already met the love of his life and lost her. Besides, no woman deserved to be dragged into the chaos that followed Captain America. 

Steve pulled his clothes on and stretched his arms up after he got his shirt on, noticing his stomach was exposed and his biceps were restricted. He pulled the too-small shirt back off and joined Bruce at the computer.

Data flashed over the screen and he stared, not comprehending anything he was reading. “What just happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember all of it. I could hear her crying and screaming in her room, so I got JARVIS to let me in. She was having a nightmare or something. I woke her up, and she pulled away from me for a few minutes, then she started acting different.”

“Okay, well that explains the trigger. You were acting pretty different too, you know.”

“Yeah, what was that about? It was like I didn’t care what I was doing, or that you guys were watching. I may be a lot of things, but an exhibitionist isn’t one of them.”

“Grace loses her inhibitions when it happens. It appears that she can also cause others to do the same.”

“Does it happen to her often?”

“Kind of. This episode was different, though,” Bruce said, adding something to the notes on the computer. “Are you okay? Not feeling any ill effects, I hope.”

“I think I’m good, but I don’t know if she’ll ever talk to me again,” Steve said, eyes cast toward the ground. His brow furrowed, and he looked back up at Bruce. “What if she feels like I forced her?”

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. "I think you only have to worry about her feeling like _she_ forced _you_."

“What? It’s not like I would've said no if she’d asked me to help her out.”

“You should tell her that. She has a hard time dealing with her behavior during the shifts.”

“Is that what you guys call it?”

“Well, it’s a working title. We can't call it a hulk-out since she doesn't exactly _hulk-out_.”

Steve glanced around, expecting some sort of tactless joke. “What happened to Tony? He didn’t go after her, did he?” He balled up his fists and started to move for the door.

Bruce held up his hands. “Wait, he didn’t follow her. I kicked him out after she left. He wasn’t doing anyone any favors.”

Steve visibly relaxed. “Thanks for making sure we were safe. Did the radiation do any damage?”

“Not as far as I can tell. You should think about being a possible option if she loses it again.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he blushed. Bruce choked on a laugh and said, “It's just a suggestion. You’re the only one who could safely handle it, but I'm sure we can figure something else out if need be. Just think about it. Maybe talk to her about it too.”

"Sure, okay. Do you need me for anything else?"

"Nope, you’re free to go do what you need to do."

After Steve darted from the room, Bruce shook his head. He knew Grace would see this as a worst-case-scenario, and honestly, it was. He could only hope she'd listen when he tried to help, otherwise she might lose all the progress she had made.


	7. Triggers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace deals with the emotional aftermath of her pink out, and discovers a new challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took like ten years to write. My brainstorming buddy, Vlietfooted, gave me some new ideas and I had to do some adjustments. If something sounds weird, let me know and I'll fix it.

Darkness greeted Grace when she opened her eyes. Her hand flopped around the night table until she touched the cold, hard edges of her phone. The screen light tinted the room blue and blinded her. In her haste to escape from her living nightmare, she’d forgotten to set it to night mode. 

It was 4:18 AM; too early to get up, unless she wanted to spend a few hours undisturbed in the gym. But if she went into the hall, she might run into _him_.

Steve. 

Even now she could smell him, as if he were right there on her bed. Like he had been yesterday. The memory had her heart pounding in her chest like the energizer bunny, and within three minutes she had kicked the blankets off and shoved a hand between her still-bare thighs, rubbing the pulsing bundle of nerves almost too hard. The rough strokes weren’t enough; not after experiencing pleasure from someone else. 

Grace let her thighs fall open, then she worked a cautious finger inside herself, discovering what she felt like inside. She’d never needed more than just a few minutes of external stimulation, so she wasn’t sure how to build herself up now that she’d had something so much better. After stuffing a few pillows behind her back so she was almost sitting on her hand, she added another digit.

She built up a rhythm, rolling her hips to fuck herself onto her fingers and circling her clit in tandem until she felt something building inside her. The vision of Steve’s dark blonde head buried between her fluorescent thighs and the sounds he’d made as he lapped at her folds brought her closer, and when she grazed that spot he had pounded incessantly, it threw her over the edge. She bit her lips between her teeth to smother her cry as she came.

Her body normalized as quickly as it had changed, and Grace was left with nothing but a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she got out of bed, intending to wash the layer of sticky sweat from her body, something felt different. She looked down. Her shirt hung below her knees when it normally hit mid thigh.

Was she shrinking? Her bracelet still fit, so that couldn’t be the case. She raised her arm and sniffed at the armpit, choking on the heavy cloud of concentrated Steve. With a yelp, she wrestled the shirt over her head and tossed it across the room. The smell of him still lingered, so she ran into the bathroom. 

She glanced in the mirror. Her hair was frizzy and snarled from the weeks of neglecting her appearance. She leaned in closer to the mirror and winced at the dark bags under her eyes and almost grimy appearance of her skin. Steve had seen her like this and still wanted to touch her? Maybe his time in the ice had messed with his brain. 

She stepped into the shower and turned the handle, letting the frigid water sting her skin. It didn’t matter. Getting Steve’s scent off her skin was her priority. She lathered up her body, forgoing the razor. She wasn’t planning on seeing anyone in the near future, anyway. 

Her hair took the longest. She had to work half a gallon of conditioner into it before the comb would budge. It took three rounds of conditioning and rinsing to get her hair squeaky clean, but the longer she carded her fingers through it, the better she felt. 

After the shower, she pulled on a tank top and some pajama pants and gathered up her dirty clothes into a basket. She’d let it pile up the last few weeks, and her room smelled sour. When she could see the floor again, she hitched the basket up on her hip and took it to her laundry room and tossed it in the washer. 

Laundry wasn’t the only thing that had fallen to the wayside. Her whole apartment was filthy, with dishes piled in the sink and clutter covering every surface. She sniffed twice and wrinkled her nose at the musty air. The white noise of the washer allowed her to think, and she moved through each room, scrubbing and organizing methodically as her mind processed the events of the previous day. 

After an hour, the buzz of the washer jolted her out of her cleaning trance. The whole place smelled like lemon, and it looked lived in, but tidy. She returned to the laundry room and transferred the soggy clothes from the washer to the dryer, but when she pressed the start button, nothing happened. She stabbed the button with her finger, but it wouldn’t start. 

“JARVIS, what’s wrong with my dryer?” 

“It appears to require maintenance. Shall I place a work order?” 

She placed one hand on her hip and rubbed her forehead with the other. She didn’t really want a random stranger in her place, but she didn’t want her wet clothes to mildew either. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

“The next available appointment time is at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Oh, come on,” Grace groaned. 

“Would you prefer for Sir to come by and take a look?” 

She shuddered and gagged. “Nope. I’d rather have stinky clothes.”

“Might I suggest utilizing a friend’s dryer?” 

“The only person I want to see right now is Natasha, and she’s not here.” 

“On the contrary; Agent Romanov is currently in the communal gym. Shall I contact her for you?”

Grace’s face lit up and she squealed and did a happy dance. “No thanks, I’ll call her myself,” she said as she ran into her bedroom and grabbed her phone, dialing Natasha’s number. 

She tapped both feet against the floor as it rang and chanted, “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” 

On the fourth ring, Natasha’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “ _Are you alright?_ ” 

Grace sat down on the bed. “I should be asking you that. Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” 

“ _I’ve been trying for two days, but JARVIS wouldn’t let me through. Bruce told me what happened. Do you need to talk?_ ” 

Grace propped the phone against her ear with her shoulder and hugged her knees to her chest. “Two days? That’s not possible.” 

“ _Maybe it took more out of you than you thought._ ”

“Maybe. Can you come over?” 

“ _I’ll be there in a few minutes._ ”

“Bring something to drink.” 

“ _Got it._ ” 

It didn’t seem possible that she had slept for two days. A gnawing pain in her stomach had her running for the fridge, and she scrambled up two eggs with cheddar cheese and piled them on a whole-wheat bun. The severity of her hunger kicked in, and she had to pace herself after the first bite so she wouldn’t get sick.

After she rinsed her plate and set it on the rack, there was a knock on the door. She stumbled into the living room, skidding across the floor before she threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall. She pulled Natasha inside and wrapped her in a full body hug, almost knocking her to the ground.

“I missed you so much. Never do that again,” Grace mumbled into Natasha’s neck.

Natasha pressed her cheek against Grace’s damp hair. “When I retire, you and I will buy a huge house in the country together.” 

Grace nodded. “We can have a couple cows and sell homemade cheese.” 

“Genius.” 

They moved into the living room to sit, and Natasha opened the bottle of cognac she’d snagged from Tony’s bar on the way. Grace grabbed two glasses and filled one up halfway before chugging it like water, only coughing after she’d downed the entire glass.

Natasha watched with a frown. Grace was normally a sipper. “I got Bruce’s perspective. Want to give me yours?” 

Grace’s face fell, and Natasha stared at her, unblinking and silent, until she cracked. “He told you everything?”

Natasha nodded.

Grace’s cheeks burned red, and she squirmed in her seat. This was a conversation she didn’t want to have, even with her best friend. “I didn’t do it on purpose. Everything got out of control so fast. How can I face any of them after that?”

“I know it’s awful, but it could have been worse. Steve’s a good guy. You can trust him.” 

“I believe you, but I can barely think about him without it setting myself off again. I could lose it just walking down the hallway. I don’t ever want to be in that situation again.” 

Natasha sipped her drink, studying Grace with a frown. “Was he that bad?” 

“No, he was perfect. It was so good, but now it’s like I’ve got a craving for him. I already shifted once today, and it was harder to get myself off. What if it gets even worse? I don’t even own a vibrator.” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows. The alcohol was hitting Grace fast. She thought about what she’d done before she amassed her collection of sex toys. “There’s always the shower head.” 

She could almost see the light bulb going off in Grace’s head, her eyes glimmering with intrigue before her words caught up with her brain and she hid her face and said, “Why can’t I stop thinking about him?” 

“Everyone has fantasies.” 

“It’s not a fantasy if I’m remembering something that actually happened.” Tears welled up in Grace’s eyes and her lower lip quivered. 

Natasha leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Grace, leaning her cheek on top of Grace’s head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” 

Grace gave a wet sniff. “I probably would have jumped you instead. My alter ego is a slut.” 

“She’s not a slut, she just goes for what she wants. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex.”

Grace scrunched up one side of her face and picked at nonexistent lint on the sofa cushion. Natasha studied her for a moment and reached for the remote, turning on the movie they had queued for the movie night they missed. 

They watched it in silence for two hours. After it was over, Natasha sat up and stretched. “Want to go do something?” 

Grace glanced at the door with a frown. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to run into any of them.” 

“I can keep you away from Steve, and Bruce is in his lab.” 

“And Tony?” 

“What about him?” 

“He is the main reason I don’t want to leave. He was standing there watching the whole thing. Didn’t Bruce tell you?” 

After a long silence, Natasha said, “He left that part out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Before Grace could stop her she was out the door.

* * *

Natasha was fuming as she took the stairs to Tony’s lab. If she didn’t burn off a little excess energy before she confronted him, she was liable to do permanent damage. The walk didn’t help much; her hands were still shaking as she stormed into the lab. 

“Stark!” she shouted.

She heard the clang of metal on metal before she saw his feet sticking out from under a large machine. His muffled voice said, “What are you yapping about, Ginger Spice?”

Natasha yanked him into the open and dropped her weight onto his chest, then wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed until his face turned red and his veins bulged. He tapped her arm, but she didn’t release him.

“I should end you,” she said through tightly clenched teeth.

He couldn’t answer due to his restricted airway, so she loosened her fingers enough for him to gasp, “Get off, you psychopath.”

She remembered that he’d recently undergone surgery to remove the arc reactor and she let him go, smirking as he crab-crawled away from her with a furious expression. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I could have you out on your ass in two seconds flat.” 

Her eyes lit up with fury as she stood and paced, clenching her fists at her sides. “What the hell is the matter with you? You sat and watched them, like a fucking peeping Tom. In what world is that okay?” She slammed her fist down on one of his worktables, rattling the tools scattered across it.

The color drained from his cheeks and his eyes darted from side to side, looking for something to protect himself with. “Who told you?” 

“Who do you think?” When he didn’t answer, Natasha continued. “I knew you were an asshole, but you crossed a line. Do you know how _hard_ it is for me to leave you alive after betraying my family like that?” 

“It’s not like she’s your sister or something. Why does it even matter? I’m not even the one who touched her. I bet you didn’t hunt down Rogers and threaten his life. And what about Bruce? He watched too.” 

“They’re her friends. She trusts them. She sure as hell doesn’t trust you. You took advantage of the situation.” 

“She’ll get over it. If you ask me, she should be quarantined until she gets her little problem under control.” 

“She’s fine. She can’t hurt anyone.” 

“Oh really? Was Rogers safe when she turned him into her little sex minion?” 

“Of course he was. She couldn’t have hurt him.” 

“Maybe you should talk to him before you start cracking skulls. I guarantee he’s feeling pretty low. Nobody deserves to be manipulated like that. You of all people should understand that.” 

Natasha looked toward the door. Tony was an asshole, and he deserved any retribution he got, but he was also right. She hadn’t even stopped by to check on Steve once. She hadn’t thought about it, but it was eerily similar to Clint’s situation with Loki. 

She leveled Tony with a glare. “If you do anything to make her unhappy again, I’ll bring the wrath of Pepper down on your head, and I promise you’ll get burned.” 

“Message received. Now get out of my lab.” 

She clenched her jaw to keep from saying anything else, and left. Before she went back to Grace’s place, she stopped at the door down the hall. Steve opened the door and she almost gasped. His shirt had a few stains, and he was sporting some stellar bedhead. 

“You look like you woke up in a dumpster.” 

He gave her a tight smile. “Is there a mission?” 

“No,” she said, stepping past him to take a seat on the couch. He looked over his shoulder at her for a moment before shaking his head and shutting the door. 

“I heard.” 

His head shot up and he backed against the door, holding his hands up between them. “Listen, I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear. You have to believe me.” 

“I know. I’m sorry, I should have come by sooner.”

“Don’t worry about me, you should be checking on Grace. She hasn’t come out of her room in days. I keep listening for her door to open, but it hasn’t.” 

“She’s alright. We spent the morning together.”

“Does she hate me?” 

“Of course not. She doesn’t hate people. Well, except maybe Tony, but he’s a special case.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and looked into Natasha’s eyes. “Did she say anything about me?” 

Natasha slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you asking me if she liked your little tongue bath?” 

He winced and rubbed the spot she hit. “I just wanted to know if she enjoyed herself as much as I did. That’s all. Don’t make this weird.”

She smirked. “I never make things weird.” 

“Do me a favor and tell her I’m sorry. I should have just left when she told me to. If I would’ve listened, this never would have happened. Now she’ll probably never talk to me again.” 

“I won’t let that happen. She needs another friend. I’m not about to let all my hard work getting you two together go to waste.” 

Steve shook his head. Grace was a peach, but he wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend, no matter how hard Natasha tried to set them up. He didn’t have the capacity to give away another piece of himself like he had with Peggy. Going to see her had dredged up a heap of painful memories and forgotten dreams. 

Natasha noticed him stewing and rolled her eyes. “Don’t get all broody on me, Rogers. She’s even more emotionally constipated than you are. All she can handle is a friend.” 

His sour face brightened with a tiny smile. “I guess we’ll see.” 

Natasha rose, moving toward the door. “I’ve got to go check on her again. Stop beating yourself up. And take a shower. You stink.” 

Steve choked on a laugh and she gave him a dainty wave before slipping outside, letting the door click shut behind her. She thought over their conversation. He didn’t seem broken like Clint had been after having his mind messed with, but he didn’t seem normal either. She sent a message to Bruce about her suspicions and returned to Grace’s room.

Natasha found her in the kitchen constructing a massive stack of pancakes, so she dug around in the cupboards for some toppings and set the table. Grace finished frying the last one and brought the whole steaming mountain of carbs to the dining room, dishing up a few onto their plates. 

“I took care of Tony,” Natasha said around a mouthful of syrupy deliciousness. 

Grace swallowed her own sticky bite and stared at her. “How?”

“Threatened his life, choked him a little. The usual.” 

Grace couldn’t help but laugh and gave Natasha a high five. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” 

“You never could.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re the best,” Grace said, giving her a wide, genuine smile, which she returned.

“That reminds me; you owe Clint five dollars.” 

Grace folded her arms across her chest and huffed. “He told you about that? That loser.”

Natasha shrugged. “He tells me everything.” 

“I’m pretty sure everyone does.” 

When her plate was clear, Natasha said, “I went to see Steve.” 

Grace dropped her face into her hands and groaned, “Oh, you did? Dang it. Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine. He was more worried about you.” 

“Yeah, right. I’m pretty sure I traumatized him for life. I hadn’t showered in a week. There’s no way he wants to get anywhere near me after that experience.” 

“I don’t think he noticed. He seemed to think the whole thing was pretty great, and I _know_ you enjoyed it,” Natasha said with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Grace shook her head and scrunched up her nose. “I take it back, you’re the worst.”

“Oh, so you fantasized about it because it sucked?”

“I didn’t say that. It blew my mind, but I wasn’t me. It was out of my control. That’s exactly what I was afraid of.”

Natasha covered Grace’s hand with hers. “Believe me, I’ve been there. I know it’s awful, but if you let it shape the rest of your life you’ll have regrets. It took years for me to move on and let myself be happy.” 

Grace covered her mouth with her free hand. “I am so sorry. I was so caught up in my frustration. I should have thought about you.” 

Natasha stroked her thumb over the back of Grace’s hand. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s just part of me. You’ve got a chance to do it better than I did. You can take control now instead of letting it control you.” 

Grace scoffed. “I can barely shake a man’s hand. Sex is way beyond that.” 

“You don’t have a problem with me touching you.”

“Because I trust you, and I’m not afraid of you. I don’t feel as safe around men.” 

“You’ve hugged Bruce.”

“He’s my friend. I trust that he’d stop if I said no. And he wouldn’t expect for me to marry him.”

“You know what you need? A fuck buddy.” 

“Don’t call it that,” Grace groaned. 

“You don’t have to call it anything. Labels are for other people.” 

“I don’t know anyone who would be into that.” 

“You could ask Steve. He’s already dipped his toe in the pool, after all.” Natasha made a show of licking her finger. 

“Yuck. Stop that. I can’t ask him. He’s probably looking for the American Dream™ and I don’t know if I’m up for the whole having kids and raising a family thing.” 

“How do you know unless you ask? Maybe you’re exactly what he’s looking for.” 

Grace narrowed her eyes. “How would you know?” 

“I’ve been running around the country with him for weeks. We had some time to talk. He’s in his room right now if you want to get a jump on it.” 

Natasha dodged a slap from Grace. “This whole thing is hypothetical. I never said I was going to do it.” 

“Either way, you should talk to him. He’s worried about you.” 

Grace glanced at the door and chewed on her bottom lip. “Really?” 

“Did you think he’d just ignore you for the rest of your life?” 

“Basically.” 

“Well, I can think of better ways to spend your time, especially since he’s only a few feet away.” 

“I don’t even know why I invited you over. Wait. Does your dryer work?” 

“As far as I know.” 

“Well, mine’s broken, and I did a load this morning. Will you dry them for me when you leave?”

Natasha chuckled. “Sure, I can take them right now. I’ve got to hit the gym after all those pancakes. Want to come?” 

“No, I’m still pretty worn out. Apparently two days of sleep wasn’t quite enough.” 

“Well, it _is_ almost 6:30. That’s practically your bed time, Grandma.” 

“I can’t help it if I like my sleep,” Grace said as she gathered the clothes. When she returned with the white basket full of damp laundry, Natasha hitched it on her hip and gave Grace a side hug before disappearing into the elevator. 

Grace watched the doors slide shut, then glanced down the hall to Steve’s door. She held her breath as she stared, almost willing him to open the door. The minutes ticked past, and when she heard the scrape of a doorknob turning, she jumped back into her apartment and let the door slam shut. 

A wave of tingles rolled through her body, the pinpricks of sweat appearing faster than they ever had before. She ran to her room, shucking off her pants unceremoniously and diving into bed. There was already a light sheen of moisture coating her folds when she buried her hand between her thighs. She rubbed, even stuck her fingers inside herself like she’d done earlier, but she could barely feel it. 

Once again, it wasn’t enough. She searched her nightstand for something to use, anything to increase her sensation. All she found was a small sketchpad, a couple cough drops, and a small tube of blue oil paint. She tossed it all to the floor with a groan, then scratched at her scalp, trying to dull the crawling sensation under her skin. 

When she glanced at the bathroom door, Natasha’s earlier suggestion came back. She darted into the bathroom and eyed the tub. Alongside the faucet was a detachable showerhead. It had several settings, so she plugged the drain, flicked the handle for hot water on and let the tub fill halfway. 

After she stripped off the rest of her clothes and tied up her hair, she eased her body into the almost-steaming water. The heat soothed some of the ache in her limbs, and she grabbed the showerhead and turned the spray on. It came out cool at first, shocking her a little, but it warmed quickly and she dipped it beneath the water, feeling the gentle tickle of the water moving down her body. 

She frowned and clicked through the settings until the water converged into a solid jet stream shooting from the center. When it grazed her clit, she shrieked and jolted, sloshing water over the lip of the tub. She held the handle farther away from her skin and rotated it in slow circles, searching for right amount of pressure. 

Every nerve in her body lit up as the water battered her overly sensitive skin. Her head fell back as her muscles tensed, driving her knees into the copper walls of the tub hard enough to bruise. A spasm jerked her hand, forcing the stream onto the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. A harsh scream came from her open mouth as a powerful orgasm ripped through her, sapping the last of her energy.

The showerhead fell from her hand, thrashing beneath the water while she caught her breath. When the feeling came back to her limbs, she hooked her toe through the drain stopper and popped it out. She sat up and turned the sprayer off as the water swirled down the drain, leaving the tub as quickly as the spike of hormones left her body. 

After she dried off, she found her phone and called Bruce. 

“ _Grace? You okay?_ ” 

“I’m alright. I just thought you should know that I shifted twice today. I think I have a new trigger.” 

“ _What is it?_ ” 

“Steve.”

* * *

Somewhere else in the tower, a man groaned Grace's name as he painted his shower walls white. He'd tried so hard to push the feelings down, but she was stuck in his head like a bad jingle.


	8. Porn and Handy Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I say that every time, I know, but this one was like dragging a toddler out of a candy store. I've updated the tags a bit, so check them out to make sure this is still something you want to read. Mainly that this is going to become a poly fic, as I originally intended, instead of strictly Grace/Steve. I apologize if that's not your cup of tea, but the muse wants what it wants. It's going to pick up soon, I PROMISE. The sex is coming. All the sex.
> 
> As always, if you see something weird, let me know. I've been known to overuse words, and I will gladly fix my errors.
> 
> Oh, and one more thing. Don't read too far into the issue with the dryer. I know it's not accurate. But I read the grease thing somewhere and had to use it.

After her confession, Bruce asked Grace to meet him in the lab the next morning. She was still nervous, but her talk with Natasha had given her some peace of mind and inspired her to take back her control, so she headed down as soon as she woke up. JARVIS already had the door open, so she shuffled in.

The squeak of her rubber soles against the laminate floor caught Bruce’s attention, and he glanced up from his computer, eyes brimming with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “Thanks for coming down. I know it wasn’t easy.” 

She shrugged and settled in on the nearest stool, kicking her feet as Bruce pulled out his notebook and flipped to the page that contained her initial data.

“I’d like to take some new blood samples if that’s alright with you.”

Grace glanced down at the blue-green veins beneath the surface of her skin and nodded. “I guess so. Thank you for not hounding me, by the way. I really did need some time alone.”

“Of course. So, I want to retest everything to see if there are residual physiological effects from your, um…”

“Pink out?” she supplied.

Bruce raised one eyebrow and murmured the term under his breath. “That’s a pretty good name for it.”

She gave him a quick smile before hunching forward and resting her elbows on the cool metal table. “It came to me after we talked last night. What do you think?”

“It’s way better than what Tony suggested.”

She leaned forward with a slight frown. “What’d he say?”

Bruce cast his eyes down to his notebook with a wince. “You really want to know?”

“Lay it on me. I can handle it.”

He continued to keep his eyes trained on the paper and muttered, “It started with nymph out, and devolved into more… unsavory terms.”

“What, like whore out or something?”

“That was one of them.”

She shook her head. “Is it sad that I’m not surprised? There’s something wrong with that man.”

Bruce chuckled under his breath and gave her an uncomfortable smile. “You’re not wrong. Don’t let him get to you. He can be an ass, but he does care.”

“No, he has it out for me. I think we’re just too different.”

Bruce wanted to tell her she was wrong, that they had a lot more in common than she thought, but he knew she wouldn’t believe him. Actions spoke far louder than words, and all Tony’s actions had been downright hostile, so he just huffed a laugh and grabbed a syringe and a container full of empty test tubes, depositing them on the table in front of her. 

She paled and clenched her fist. “You don’t have to fill all of those, right?”

“I only need eight. Try not to tense up.”

“ _Only_ eight?” she muttered as he tied a rubber strap around her bicep. She flexed her hand a few times while he tapped at the thickest vein near the bend in her arm.

“Little stick,” he said, carefully puncturing her skin with the butterfly needle. She clenched her jaw at the sting, then remembered to relax her fist, looking away as he filled vial after vial with the warm dark fluid until the tray was halfway filled.

Bruce carefully removed the catheter from her vein, stopping the flow with a cotton ball before securing it with a bandage and cleaning up the mess. He stored the samples in a small refrigerator, then picked up a box from a drawer and brought it to Grace.

He opened the lid and pulled out what looked like one of those fancy exercise watches. “I’ve been working on this since you got here. It has most of the capabilities of the Vessel and transmits all the data it collects to me remotely.”

Grace reached for it and tapped the little screen with her fingertip. “Press this to turn it on,” Bruce said, pointing to a button on left edge. She held it down it until the screen lit up and a computerized voice said, “Please position the Portable Endocrinal Recording Vessel on your wrist.”

Grace grinned and flipped it over, squinting at the dull red strip inside the strap. Bruce held his hand out when she’d finished looking and said, “Want to test it out?”

She nodded and held out her wrist. He fastened it on and the device spoke again. “Welcome. To calibrate infrared scanner, tap the screen twice.”

Grace gave it two quick taps and waited as it ran through a series of painless tests. Bruce showed her how to navigate the interface and had her send the initial data to the Vessel in his lab. 

He added the baseline readings to his notebook, then had her do a series of exercises designed to raise her heart rate. Every test he gave her failed to trigger a reaction.

“Well, the good news is that it isn't solely tied to your heart rate.”

“Does that mean there’s bad news?”

“Sort of. If it’s not physial, it may be an emotional response. That kind of thing is hard to test for. Would you consider wearing the monitor full time for at least a couple weeks? The hormonal data it could get would be invaluable.”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like it’s uncomfortable. You did great job.”

“Thanks, it was a joint effort.” The sleek design came from Tony, but Bruce didn’t want to bring him up again. “Keep it on as much as you can. You can take it off to shower, but shoot for 20 hours a day for now.”

“I can do that. Things have been of out-of-control, so I’m sure you’ll get plenty of information.”

“I think it might be a good idea for you to start meditation or exercising. Natasha’s knowledgeable. I’m sure she’d give you some pointers if you asked.”

As she nodded, a loud gurgle came from Grace’s stomach and she hopped off the stool. “If we’re all done, I should head home. I didn’t eat breakfast.”

Bruce shook his head and chuckled. “Call me if it gives you any trouble.”

“You got it. Let me know what those blood tests show,” Grace said before leaving the lab with a wave.

* * *

She was washing the dishes from her “brunch” when the front door whooshed open. Her body tensed and she listened, sighing in relief when Natasha said, “Got your clothes, woman.”

Grace rounded the corner and almost knocked the basket from her arms. She looked down and saw a medium sized pink box nestled in the middle of the heap of clothes. Grace took the basket from her hands and sniffed the box. “Please tell me that’s a cake. I’ve got a huge craving for some chocolate.”

Natasha smirked and lifted the box off of the clothes. “It’s a little better than chocolate.”

Grace set the basket in the laundry room, then returned and took the box, giving it a gentle shake before sitting on a chair with it in her lap. Natasha sat opposite her in another chair, eyes sparkling with barely restrained excitement. Grace slid the lid off and reached in, pulling out a distinctly phallic object.

She glared at Natasha and crinkled up her nose, but brought the purple monstrosity closer to her face. “Is this a dildo?”

Her fingers glided over the rubbery material, and she bit her lip as she inspected it. When she pressed the button near the base, the toy buzzed to life. It fell from her hands, landing inches from the apex of her thighs. She yelped and batted it out of her lap onto the couch cushion beside her.

Natasha tried not to laugh out loud as Grace picked it up with her thumb and forefinger, like it would jump up and bite her. She tried to turn it off, but pressing the button only changed the pattern of the vibrations. Grace made an undignified noise and tossed the vibrator at Natasha, who picked it up and held the button down, the hum giving way to silence after a few seconds.

With a sheepish smile, Grace looked back in the box. There was a palm sized egg-shaped device that she assumed was another vibrator, a flesh colored dildo, and a small magenta bottle full of liquid. Under it all was a sheet of pink tissue paper. Grace poked at it with her finger, feeling something else underneath. Her eyes darted to Natasha for a split second before she pulled the paper out, uncovering several DVD’s. A blush heated her cheeks when she noticed the theme of the movies; they were all porn parodies involving Captain America.

“You are the worst. How did you even know this was a thing?”

“Ever heard of rule 34?” Grace shook her head. “If you can imagine it, someone has turned it into porn.”

Grace narrowed her eyes, and Natasha said, “I’m not making it up. If you ever get a secured computer, check it out for yourself.”

“I'd rather leave my curiosity unsatisfied. So, why did you bring me these?”

“I wanted to help you figure out why Steve became a trigger.”

Grace pursed her lips and mulled over the idea in her head. It made sense to figure it out. She couldn’t avoid him forever. “Okay, what did you have in mind?”

Natasha looked pleased with herself. “First, I want you to watch some of the videos to see if it’s his physical appearance.”

Grace plucked one case from her box and frowned at the cheesy cover art featuring fake Steve and Natasha. “Well, this guy is no Steve. He’s got dark brown hair. But the girl’s kind of pretty, even if she doesn’t look like you.”

Natasha loaded the disc into the DVD-player and turned on the TV before hitting play. The scene opened with “Black Widow” standing in a nondescript room with bars on the windows. A man in a tacky suit strode into the room and Grace choked out a laugh at his goatee. “Is that supposed to be Tony?”

After some awkward banter, the scene cut to a shot of a man standing on top of a roof wearing a cheap Captain America costume, with heroic trumpets playing in the background. The jaunty tune of his cell phone interrupted, and the instant the man answered his phone, Grace lost her composure and hunched forward, laughing again.

“Is that his actual voice? He doesn’t sound like Steve at all.”

Natasha was holding in her reactions until “Tony” asked “her” if she needed to wring out her panties, then she burst into peals of laughter. “Now that’s just insulting.”

“Whoever wrote these lines should be fired.” 

“Steve” showed up, still in the uniform, minus the cowl. He seemed cocky, and the delivery of his lines was too dramatic. It didn't make for a sexy combination. The men exchanged weak punches, then “Natasha” and “Steve” had a melodramatic fight that ended with them kissing on the floor.

“Is it me, or is her skin way too tan?” Grace said.

“I think it’s just the makeup they used on her face,” Natasha answered.

“Steve” unzipped “Natasha’s” catsuit, revealing the actress’s large, fake breasts and Grace grabbed the remote.

“Can’t handle the heat?” Natasha joked.

Grace chuckled. “No, I want to see if anything else hilarious happens.”

She set it to skip forward, stopping when the man was burying his fingers inside the woman. “I know the gloves are fingerless, but that can’t be comfortable.”

When the actors switched position, with “Natasha” riding “Steve’s” face, Grace stared, wondering if it was what she and Steve had looked like to Bruce and Tony. Before she could dwell on it, “Natasha” slid down to take “Steve’s” dick into her mouth, and the groans he made erased all thoughts of her embarrassment and left her giggling once again.

“Okay, I can’t listen to him do that anymore,” she said, skipping forward again until all the fellatio scene was over. When the couple stood, and the man hooked the woman’s leg over his arm and sunk into her, Grace squinted at the screen. “Is that even possible?”

“If you’re limber enough, it can be, but it’s not very sustainable,” Natasha quipped.

Grace snapped her eyes over to her and stared with her mouth open. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out the answers to the many questions she had, so she shut her mouth and turned her attention back to the screen. The woman made a lot of noise, and the man kept making a weird fish face, so Grace wasn’t feeling anything at all.

The man's groans started again as he snapped his pelvis into the woman’s. Grace clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her giggle, but minute later, he growled, “Fuckin’ work that pussy,” and both women burst into laughter. Grace hit the fast-forward button and skipped right through the “doggy style” scene and another blow job scene and didn’t stop until “Steve” was standing and holding “Natasha” up off the ground, fucking her in midair.

“Okay, now _that_ can’t be possible. It doesn’t even make sense. Oh, he put her down already. I knew it.” She skipped again until “Steve” was lying on the ground and “Natasha” was on top of him, facing away from him to give the camera a nice shot of him shallowly fucking her.

“Her knees are knobby. They should have gone for thigh high boots instead of knee-highs,” Natasha said. 

As Grace nodded, the reality that they were sitting together and critiquing porn set in. “Is this weird?”

“Kind of, but if you don’t mind sitting here watching imitation me fuck imitation Steve, then I don’t either.”

“As long as the guys never find out. It’s not like this is doing anything for me, anyway.”

Grace skipped to the end of the video, just to see if any other hilarious lines happened once the sex was over, and they both stared on in confusion as a man in a red and blue costume appeared to grab “Steve’s” shield with some kind of webbing, and the screen faded to black.

“Who was that guy?” Grace asked.

“No clue. I don't know anyone who can shoot webs,” Natasha answered, getting up to put the disc back into the case. “Want to try another one?”

“Just leave them in the box. I think we’ve established that it’s not the idea of Steve and sex that gets to me. I tried to picture it being more realistic, but I didn’t feel anything.”

“Well, he didn’t have any Steve-like qualities. Maybe you have a thing for tall blonds?”

Grace scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. “I mean, I don’t know. I never really thought about it, but I guess most of the celebrity crushes I had as a teen were blond.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Well, Johnny Storm for one.”

Natasha clapped her hands and howled with laughter. “Please tell Steve that someday. Clint always jokes that they're twins.”

Grace opened her laptop and did an image search for the two of them. The results surprised her. “I never even realized that. He's right.”

She looked up a few more of her old crushes to show Natasha, and there was no denying their similarities. “I can’t wait for you to meet Thor. He’s the biggest blond I’ve ever seen.”

Grace blushed and didn’t make eye contact with her. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she’d had more than a few steamy fantasies about being hoisted over Thor’s shoulder and carried off to be ravaged since he’d appeared on Earth. She couldn’t help it; he looked like the ravaging type.

“He’s not here, is he?” she almost whispered, picking at her fingernails.

Natasha had been watching her closely. Her reactions were similar to those she’d had when Natasha first brought up getting to know Steve. Grace did have a type.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it. He doesn’t visit much.”

The smile of relief on Grace’s face didn’t go unnoticed, but before Natasha could comment, there was a loud knock on the door. Grace frowned, then remembered that someone was coming to fix her dryer. She got up to get the door, stopping just before she grabbed the handle.

“Hide the box,” she stage-whispered, gesturing wildly at the coffee table. Natasha slipped the lid back on and moved it to the floor. Grace sighed in relief, then plastered on a smile as she opened the door.

The man standing before her made her eyes widen in surprise and her words die in her throat. He was tall and blond, right up her alley. In fact, he could be Steve and Johnny’s bespectacled triplet. The name ‘Jake’ was embroidered on his polo shirt.

“Got a work order for a dryer,” he said, holding out his clipboard with a wide smile.

Grace glanced down, seeing words on the page but not comprehending them, so she nodded and stepped aside to let him in. His musky scent bathed her nostrils and her eyes fell shut. It wasn’t anything like Steve, but he smelled damn good, like something warm and sweet and spicy. Cider, maybe? 

“Where’s your machine?” His voice slammed her back to reality, and he smirked at her vacant expression.

She blinked away the brain fog and folded her arms over her chest, leading him to the laundry room without saying a word, patting the top of the dryer once it was within reach.

He looked over the machine and said, “Can you describe the problem?”

“It won’t do anything.”

He nodded and bent forward, hugging the machine and wiggling it side to side until it was a foot away from the wall, trapping Grace behind it.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll push it back and let you out real quick,” Jake said.

“N-no, leave it. Maybe if I watch, I’ll be able to fix it myself next time,” she said with a shy smile.

Jake beamed. “I like a woman who isn’t afraid to get dirty.”

If Grace’s cheeks weren’t burning before, they were now. Jake wedged his slim hips between the dryer and the wall and squatted down, pulling a screwdriver from his tool belt. He loosened the screws one by one, pinching them between his lips after he’d worked them free. Grace held out her hand, and he glanced up, frowning until she pointed at the screws.

He took them from his mouth and set them in her palm with a grin. “I wish I had you on all my jobs. I could really use those hands of yours.”

She laughed, then cringed. It sounded obnoxious to her ears, high and fake. Why didn’t she just let him move the dryer back and let her out?

Jake shifted the panel off the back of the dryer and peered inside with the aid of his flashlight. “Here’s your problem. Your rotation valve has some sticky buildup. If I pump the cavity full of grease things should start running nice and smooth. Lucky for you I brought a full tube along with me.”

“Oh,” Grace said, though it came out as a squeak.

Jake snipped the tip off the grease and emptied it into the cavity, humming in appreciation when the valve spun freely. “Oh, yeah. Just like that. Could you get her turned on?”

“What?” Grace sputtered.

“The dryer.”

“Oh, of course.” Grace reached around to the front and hit the power button, smiling at the familiar beep it made. “Wow, you actually did it.” 

“You doubted my skills? I’m hurt.” Jake replaced the panel and Grace held out the screws, trying not to flinch when his calloused fingertips brushed her palm each time he grabbed one to put it back in. After the last one, he squeezed back out from behind the dryer and pushed it back into place. The laundry room was built for one person, so he and Grace were practically on top of each other.

“Got anything wet that needs a tumble?”

Grace’s swallow was audible, and she blushed deeper red. “Um. No? Nothing’s wet. My friend dried the load from yesterday.”

“Well, damn, I wanted to hear this baby pur. Stark put high quality appliances in this place.” He stroked his hand over the brushed-metal top then patted it gently.

Grace reached around him and snatched a towel out of the basket she’d placed on the washer earlier, tossing it in the utility sink beside the dryer and flipping the faucet on. Jake’s face lit up with a childlike grin and he pumped his fist as she wrung some of the water out and handed him the damp towel.

He threw it in the dryer and pressed start, letting out a satisfied groan at the near-silent hum. “Now _that_ is a fine piece of machinery.”

“I guess it is. Thank you for fixing it.”

“My pleasure,” Jake said, filling out the work order on his clipboard. “Could I get your autograph right there?” He turned it toward her and pointed to a line near the bottom. The corners of Grace’s lips turned up in a tiny smile as she scrawled her name across the page.

Jake flipped it back around and squinted at her name. “Grace? I like it. Suits you.”

She crinkled her nose and bit at her lips before shaking her head. He chuckled at her reaction and wrote something in the margin of the page before tearing off a little strip and handing it to her. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open when she realized it was his phone number.

“Give me a call if you’d like to lend me your hands again on a job. You’re a natural,” he said with a wink. Her face went as blank as it had when she’d let him in and he gave her a two-fingered salute and showed himself out.

When the front door clicked shut, Natasha rose from her spot on the couch and scampered into the laundry room with all the excitement of a little girl in the Disney store. Grace’s shell-shocked face sent her into a peal of laughter that had her steadying herself against the doorframe.

“Who _was_ that guy? And how are you still standing?”

Grace blinked herself out of her thoughts and stared down at the piece of paper she’d crumpled in her fist. “He gave me his number,” she murmured.

Natasha took the paper from her and typed the number into her phone. “I’m going to make sure this guy is legit before you call him.”

She snatched the paper back. “I’m not going to call him.”

“You sure? He was pretty cute. I mean, come on. Steve with a goatee and glasses? How could you resist?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“You know that he likes your hands,” Natasha said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. 

“Stop that. He was just being funny.”

“Um, no. That was flirting. I heard every word, and he was hitting on you that entire time.”

Grace scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“The only ridiculous one is you. You should call him. He looked like a good kisser.”

“I’m not going to kiss him,” she cried. “We both know how it turned out the last time.”

“That was out of your control. This could be on your own terms. It might do you some good.”

“Oh, really? So I should just sleep with the first guy who comes along and says a bunch of pretty words to me? I don't think so.”

"Grace, I was only teasing."

“Well, I think I’ve had enough teasing for one day.”

Natasha tilted her head and frowned. “I think I'm going to head out. Give me a call tomorrow and we can hit the gym.”

Grace sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You've had a weird day. Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

Grace held her arms open for a hug and Natasha squeezed her tightly before waving goodbye and disappearing out the door.

Now that she was alone, the nervous tension in Grace's body turned into arousal. “Are you freaking kidding me,” she groaned, stomping toward her bedroom. She stopped short and looked over her shoulder at the box sitting in front of the couch and made a detour to grab it before shutting herself in her room to break in her new vibrator.


	9. A Real Girl's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha takes Grace out on the town to get a dress for a party. But who is the party for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't throw tomatoes at me. I know it has been forever. Thanks for hanging in there through my dry spells. I appreciate all the awesome comments of encouragement I've gotten from those of you who enjoy the story. This chapter is fun, with some feels. The next chapter is going to have some action! Not the sexual kind, unfortunately, but the plot is going to thicken. Anyway, thanks for reading!

The shrill tone of Grace’s ringtone pulled her from sleep too early. She snaked her hand under her pillow and jerked her cell phone from beneath it, then swiped the call symbol to the right. “You better be dying,” she rasped into the speaker. 

“ _Good morning, sunshine. Do you have a nice dress?_ ” Natasha’s voice was way too peppy for the butt crack of dawn.

Grace rubbed the crust from the corners of her eyes and squinted at her closet. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“ _There’s a party tonight and I need a date._ ”

“I’m not really a party person.”

“ _Come on, do you want to look back when you’re old and can’t get out of your wheelchair knowing you could have gone to a fancy New York party, and you chose to sit in your room alone?_ ”

“I guess not. What’s the party for?”

“ _Why does there have to be a reason? It’s just a party. We can dress up and have a good time on someone else’s dime. You know you want to._ ”

“Alright, alright. I’ll come.”

“ _I’ll be there in an hour to take you shopping. Get dressed. And eat some carbs._ ” Natasha hung up without saying goodbye.

Grace lounged around in bed for a few minutes before she got up and stretched her limbs. She sniffed at her underarm and wrinkled her nose, then hit the shower. After a good lather, rinse and repeat, she gave herself a thorough shave. She’d gotten lazy being at the tower and not having to see many people, so her leg hair was approaching sasquatch levels.

Her curly hair air dried while she put on mascara and eyeliner. When she finished, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled. A real smile, one she hadn’t seen much of in recent months.

Shortly after she finished breakfast, she heard a firm knock, so she grabbed her purse and followed Natasha to the garage where Happy Hogan was waiting next to a black sedan. He nodded at them and opened the door to the back seat for them.

Grace looked at Natasha with a frown. “We have a chauffeur?”

“I thought it might be nice to make a real girl’s day of it.”

“Real girl’s days involve a personal driver?” 

“When you’re with me, they do,” Natasha answered. She climbed into the car and patted the seat beside her until Grace sighed and joined her.

Happy was a great driver and navigated his way through the busy New York City traffic with ease, making it to a strip of storefronts. Natasha said she’d give him a call when they were ready, then dragged Grace through the large glass doors of a store, where she found herself immersed in a bright, colorful world full of lace, satin and silk.

Her eyes caught on something beautiful no matter which way she looked, and she staggered along behind Natasha to a desk near the back of the store, where a woman was waiting with a fabric tape measurer and a smile.

Natasha slid a credit card across the counter to the woman and said, “She has an appointment for the works.”

The woman nodded, and she stifled a cough as she glanced at the name on the black credit card. Natasha smirked, then followed her up a set of stairs and through a bright red door with ‘VIP’ spelled out in gold lettering, tugging Grace along by her wrist. Inside, there were two large changing rooms with plush white suede sofas and large mirrors surrounded by soft lights. The woman assured them she would be back and left them alone in the room.

They barely had time to sit down before the woman returned with a chilled bottle of champagne and two glass flutes. As she poured the bubbling liquid into their glasses, she said, “My name is Bridgette, thank you for choosing Fantasia today. Are you ready to get started with your fitting?”

Grace glanced at Natasha who nodded, so she stood and held her arms out awkwardly as Bridgette took her measurements and jotted them down in a little notebook. The experience was quick and painless, aside from having a stranger’s hands so close to her sensitive areas. When she finished, Bridgette excused herself to gather the first round of options.

“Ready to get sexy?” Natasha said.

Grace rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her champagne. Several minutes later, Bridgette returned with a rack full of lingerie.

“I thought I was getting a dress,” Grace whispered to Natasha.

“You are, but I’ve seen your laundry. You can’t wear a sports bra and boy shorts under couture. Didn’t you notice all the underwear when we walked in?”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “There was a lot to take in.”

“Well, prepare yourself. This appointment is full-service. Underwear, dress, shoes, anything you need to be your best tonight.”

Grace worried her lip between her teeth and frowned. “I don’t know if I can afford all that, I figured a dress would be pushing it already. I haven’t made any money since I moved up here.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t let you pay for it. You got me all that stuff the other day.”

“Relax, I’m not paying for it either. Stark Industries is.”

“Tony? Why would he do that? He hates me.”

“Call it a gift from Pepper Potts.”

Grace’s jaw dropped. “Pepper Potts knows who I am?”

“Of course. I told her all about you. She really wants to meet you.”

Grace downed the rest of her champagne in a daze and set her glass to the side, before noticing Bridgette standing off to the side, still holding some selections from the rack, mostly nude colors with varying levels of strapless-ness. Grace rose, hurrying over to the other woman’s side.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Grace said.

Bridgette smiled politely at her and held out the bras she held in her hand. “I’m all yours until your appointment is over. Take all the time you need.”

Grace took the bras and cringed as she tripped over her feet in her haste to get into the dressing room. Once she pulled the heavy red velvet curtain closed, she let out a sigh. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she told herself, then she dropped her clothes to the floor.

Sizing herself up in the tri-fold mirror, she frowned. Natasha was right. Her undergarments were terrible. It wasn’t that she didn’t know, she just hadn’t given it much thought in a while since she had no one to show off for. Her mind flicked to Steve and her cheeks grew hot. She didn't want Steve or any other man seeing any of her current underwear.

She peeked her head through the curtain, getting Bridgette’s attention. “I know this was just supposed to be stuff to go under my dress for tonight, but do you think you could bring me some other stuff? My underwear drawer could use some updating.”

Bridgette beamed and nodded, most likely thinking of the high commission she’d be making from Stark Industries. She passed Grace a few more pieces and wheeled the rack back out to restock.

* * *

Four and a half hours later, Natasha called Happy to come get them. He didn’t even blink at the amount of bags in their hands, just popped the trunk and arranged their purchases neatly inside. They were both giggling as they buckled themselves into their seats. Grace was half past tipsy from all the champagne. Natasha fared better since she was used to true Russian vodka.

“I figured out why we needed a driver,” Grace said before dissolving into airy giggles.

Happy glanced back in the rear-view mirror. Driving around inebriated women wasn’t normally so innocent since an equally drunk Tony usually accompanied them. The change of pace was refreshing.

It only took a few minutes for Grace to fall asleep on Natasha’s shoulder. When they got back to the tower, Natasha gently woke her, and Grace shot up and groaned, “’R’ we back already?”

“Time flies when you’re snoring. Ready to head up?”

Grace nodded sleepily, a huge yawn escaping her mouth as she stretched.

Natasha shook her head and smiled. She offered Grace a hand and helped get her footing on the solid cement of the parking garage.

Happy stood beside the open trunk. “Want a hand with the bags, ladies?”

Natasha shook her head. “It looks like a lot, but they aren’t very heavy. Thanks for the ride.”

“You are a very nice man,” Grace said, patting Happy on the back of his arm before she loaded up their arms and returned to her apartment.

Natasha set her things to the side to take home later and helped Grace remove the tags from all her new underwear. It looked like a lot when they laid it all out on the table, but Grace couldn’t find it in her heart to care. Part of her felt bad for buying so much, but the louder part said that Tony owed her for being so shitty to her all the time.

She picked up her favorite set, a simple matching bra and panty set made of soft, grey-blue fabric, trimmed in lace of the same shade. It wasn’t as fancy as some of her other purchases, but it complimented her skin tone well and made her feel comfortable and sexy.

The set wouldn’t go under her new dress, but she was planning on wearing the set to bed, as silly as that sounded. It was exactly the sort of thing she always hoped to own.

“Those looked great on you,” Natasha said, still removing tags from Grace’s massive stock.

Grace’s cheeks flushed red, and she smiled shyly. “Thanks. I’m kind of excited to wear them.”

“For anyone in particular?” Natasha winked.

Grace rolled her eyes.“Could you hand me one of those empty bags and keep your comments to yourself?”

Natasha cackled as she passed one of the silver bags to her, and Grace scooped her new lingerie into it and took it to her room. She emptied the bag on the bed and pulled her underwear drawer open. It wasn't much to look at, four full-coverage sports bras, and about fifteen pairs of bikini-cut cotton panties from Wal-Mart.

She held up a pair of the panties and sighed, dropping them on the floor with a yelp when Natasha said, “Those are awful.”

Grace crouched and snatched them from the floor and tossed them into the bag on the bed before dumping in the rest.

“You should leave out a few for your period. Wouldn’t want to get blood stains on the fancy ones,” Natasha said.

Grace shrugged and reached back into the bag, then stuffed four pairs into the back of the drawer. “What about the bras?” she said, gesturing to the beige utilitarian contraptions in the drawer.

“Keep at least one. They might be ugly, but I bet they’re super comfortable. A girl needs a comfy old bra sometimes.”

Grace smiled. It was nice having another woman around. She kept her favorite granny bra and added the rest to the bag. Natasha folded the new things and put them away.

The smile on Grace’s face grew wider. “I feel like a real girl now. Look at all those bright, non-pastel colors. I should have done this years ago.” Natasha had picked out a few things Grace would definitely have to work up the confidence to wear, but they would make good goals.

After they got everything put away, they only had two hours to prepare for the party, so Natasha called Clint down to help with makeup.

Grace had laughed at the idea at first, but Natasha showed her a few pictures of looks he’d done on her over the years and she changed her mind. Clint was a pro.

They were all in the bathroom, and Natasha started on Grace’s hair while Clint studied her face, creating a look in his mind. He’d seen the dress laid out on her bed when he came in, so it didn’t take him long to come up with a plan. Her drugstore foundation matched her skin well, but he dipped into his own supplies for the rest.

Clint chose bronze and shimmering silver for Grace’s eyes. “I never see you with makeup, so I’m going all out.”

Grace shrugged and closed her eyes as he expertly brushed the powder over her eyelids. She’d never had someone else do her makeup. It was almost as good as having someone play with her hair. Having both done at the same time was pure bliss.

The only nerve-wracking part was when he glued the false lashes on. The glue didn’t feel much different from any other type of makeup, but the thought of it being so close to her eyeballs made her eye twitch.

After a few more swipes of mascara, Clint stepped back and mused, “I definitely missed my calling.”

Natasha stepped around to see and whistled like a construction worker before she turned Grace around in her chair so she could look in the mirror. She stared at her face, turning her head from side to side before she leaned in closer.

Natasha somehow managed to tame her normally wild hair, leaving it in silky, loose waves that reminded her of the forties, and she was pretty sure Clint worked some black magic with the makeup. She barely even looked like herself anymore. She gave Clint a grin and wrapped him in a hug.

He squeezed her tight and said, “You’re going to outshine Stark at his own birthday.”

Grace tensed, then dropped her arms and spun to face Natasha with a scowl. “It’s Tony’s party?”

Natasha’s face was carefully blank, though she wanted to throw a glare of her own at Clint. “Hear me out,” she said, keeping her voice soft and calming.

Grace folded her arms and pursed her lips, the prickling heat of betrayal twisting her stomach in knots.

“I know I should have told you, but I knew you would talk yourself out of it if I told you too early.”

“When were you going to tell me? As Tony was sending his bodyguards to escort me out?”

“I doubt he’ll even see you. He’ll be too busy working the room.”

Grace dropped her arms and balled up her fists at her sides, her chest feeling heavier with every breath. “That’s not the point and you know it.” Natasha’s head fell, but she didn’t say a word to defend herself.

Grace’s nose burned as her eyes began to water. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to cry openly, so she spun around fled to her bedroom. The texture of her ceiling was blurred by unshed tears, and she fanned her face with her hands trying to keep them from spilling out and ruining her makeup. After a few minutes, Clint came up behind her and handed her a tissue. She sniffed wetly and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, giving him an apologetic look.

He smiled warmly. “I can fix it.”

She breathed a laugh and turned around to blow her nose. Once the waterworks died down, she turned back around to find Clint sitting on the edge of her bed holding up her dress for a better look.

“I bet this looks gorgeous on you. You picked a good one,” he said.

She sighed. “That was all Natasha. I didn’t even know I look good in green.”

“Well, it would be a shame to let that makeup job go to waste. It’s some of my best work ever.”

Grace’s shoulders dropped, and she flopped onto the bed beside him. “She lied.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Why does everyone I love try to manipulate me?”

“I don’t know, kid. She only meddles when she cares. And she wasn’t lying when she said Tony won’t even notice you. He’s got so many asses to kiss that he’ll never even notice we showed up.”

Grace brought her hands up to rub her eyes and Clint caught her wrists. “Don’t you dare. Not until after we show you off. If you decide to go, that is.”

She chuckled. “My apologies, your majesty.” 

Clint’s watch beeped. “I’ve got to go suit up. Let me give you a quick touch up, then I’ll leave you two to get dressed.” He retrieved his bag from the bathroom and gave her makeup a once-over. The damage was minimal since he used waterproof makeup. Once she heard the front door shut behind him, she looked toward the bathroom door. It was open, but Natasha was nowhere near the doorway.

Grace took a deep breath and let it out, then trailed her fingers over the iridescent teal beads that decorated her dress. “I’m going to need help getting into this thing,” she called.

Natasha shot of the bathroom in a split second. The hopeful, apologetic look on her face sent a little pang of emotion through Grace’s chest. In all the time she’d known Natasha, she’d never seen her look so vulnerable. 

Grace threw her arms open and said, “Get over here and give me a hug.”

Natasha finally looked up, relief visible on her face as she stepped over and accepted the hug. “I need you to promise me something,” Grace said into her shoulder.

Natasha leaned back and finally met her eyes before nodding. “Be honest with me. You’re my friend, you’re not my mother. It’s not your job to trick me into doing things.”

“I promise.”

Grace stuck out her hand and Natasha shook it firmly, then she frowned. “You know that’s not a mother’s job either, right?”

Grace’s eyes widened, then she shook her head rapidly. “Of course it isn’t. I was joking. Now, can you help me into this dress?”

Natasha nodded and Grace slipped her robe off as Natasha picked up the dress. She held the sheath of fabric open low enough that Grace could step into it. It glided up easily over the shapewear she’d squeezed herself into, and when everything was zipped and fastened, Grace stepped in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom.

She barely recognized herself. The hair and makeup had been different enough; the dress pushed it all over the top and she felt like a real live princess. Her fingertips traced the beaded neckline that hugged the base of her throat. The deep blue-green sleeveless gown fit like it was made for her, nipping in at the waist and hugging down her hips before it flared out, flowing all the way to her toes. 

Grace twisted from side to side, grinning as the light caught on all the dark green sequins that swirled over the sheer top layer of fabric. “I wish my mom could see this.” 

Natasha grabbed Grace’s phone from the bedroom and held it up. “Turn around and smile.”

Grace turned away from her reflection, folding her hands in front of her with a shy smile. Natasha snapped a photo, then said, “Come on, loosen up. You look hot. Give me a pose."

She shook her head and her cheeks warmed, but Natasha gave her ‘the eyebrow’ until she gave in and stuck out her hip while she pursed her lips. “That’s the stuff. Give it to me. Make love to me with your eyes.”

Grace burst out laughing and Natasha kept taking pictures, capturing the real Grace. She got several good ones and sent a few off to Melissa before Grace could protest. She also sent two to herself, including the sexy pose. Steve was out of the state looking for Bucky, and it was her duty as his friend to let him know what he was missing.

After she got her own dress on, Natasha glanced at the clock. “I think we’re going to be fashionably late.” 

Grace started to wring her hands and fidget as she eyed the front door. Her bracelet clashed with the dress, so she slipped it off and set it on her night stand. The longer she imagined walking into a crowded room, the more the cold sweat of anxiety built up, leaving her stomach in a knot. Natasha noticed, and held out her hand. Grace took it with her own clammy one and squeezed tight. 

“If you really hate it, we can leave after a few minutes. I just want you to see what it’s like, okay?” 

Grace closed her eyes and nodded, taking slow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Once the panic was back down to a manageable level, they headed down to the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's Grace's look for the party If you're curious! ](https://blowingoffsteamfanfiction.tumblr.com/post/169909892715/the-dress-for-chapter-9-and-the-hair-and-makeup)


	10. Ride The Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's party leads to a new friendship, a terrifying ordeal, then something just a little naughty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a beast, like 7500 words, so pace yourself. Trigger warnings for the middle, it details a panic attack and it involves an elevator, so if that's not your thing, skip it from the second page break to the third. 
> 
> You can thank georgiagirlagain for the lovely man candy in this chapter. Thanks for the inspiration, darling. My lovely beta readers/writing inspirers/favorite people, Vlietfooted and Anogete are also majorly responsible for this chapter. Without them I would never finish anything. Thanks, ladies. I love you both.

A voice muffled by the wall that separated Grace and Natasha from Tony’s birthday party shouted, “I love you, Tony,” over the soft thump of the bass.

“Of course you do. I mean, who doesn’t?” Tony’s speaker-amplified voice responded. 

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Well, now I see why he likes throwing parties.”

Natasha chuckled. “We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Grace closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself one last time. She would be fine. It was only a party. No big deal. It’s not like anything bad will happen. She’d get a drink, talk to Clint, then head home. Easy.

She gripped Natasha’s elbow and followed her through the doorway.

“You’re late, Romanoff. And who is that pretty little thing? I didn’t know you were bringing a date,” Tony called from his spot in the center of the room.

Grace tilted her head down, trying to hide behind her hair. Tony squinted to get a better view of her, but he didn’t recognize her. “Hello there, gorgeous. Save me a spot on your dance card.”

She caved in on herself in an attempt to escape back into the hallway. “Oh, someone’s shy. Come find me after you get a little liquid courage,” Tony said with a laugh, turning his attention back to the other guests. “Now, who wants to see my latest inventions?”

Grace breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t caused a scene even if he did notice her. Clint deserved a punch for getting her hopes up though.

A waiter appeared in front of them with a tray of colorful cocktails. Natasha took a blue one and pointed with her pinky to a red one with a fancy fruit garnish. Grace nodded and grabbed it, thanking the waiter before he disappeared into the crowd.

She inspected the glittering gold sugar that adorned the rim of her glass, taking a hesitant sip. She raised her brows in surprise. It was strong for a party cocktail, although her experience with alcohol at parties was a mixer hosted by the science department at Culver, and the drinks were mostly water. Not that most of the coeds cared. Free booze was free booze.

She took a healthy gulp, savoring the burn as Natasha chuckled. “Pace yourself. If there’s one place Tony doesn’t skimp, it’s on the alcohol. Two of those will knock you flat on your ass.”

Grace smirked and gave a dramatic sigh. “Alright, _mom_. I don’t want to end up giving Tony any ammunition, anyway.”

“I have a little surprise for you,” Natasha said, pulling her along with a gentle tug on her wrist. Grace followed, sparing a glance over her shoulder to the center of the room where she’d seen Tony last. The surrounding crowd watched with rapt attention as he gave a grand speech about his latest accomplishments, complete with a high tech holographic display.

Natasha jostled Grace’s wrist, and she whipped her head around so fast she felt dizzy. When her eyes focused on her ‘surprise,’ she froze. The god of thunder himself stood in front of her, his golden glow almost visible. Natasha rescued her drink before she dropped it.

Her heart tried to escape her chest as she marveled at the way his deep red jacket clung to his muscular frame. When he stopped laughing with Clint and turned his gaze to her, she was amazed that she didn’t spontaneously combust.

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He reached out to grasp her hand in his massive one. “You must be Lady Grace. I am Thor, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard.”

The ends of his blond locks tickled her forearm as he bent his head and raised her hand to his mouth. The moment his lips touched her skin, an electric shock erupted through Grace’s entire body. She snatched her hand back and clutched it to her chest, rubbing at the tingling spot. She half expected a welt or red mark, but her skin was unblemished.

Thor’s brow furrowed, and he knelt in front of her. “I apologize. My lightning was drawn to the power simmering within you. How are you able to contain its strength in such a small vessel?” 

Grace frowned. “Not very well, I'm afraid.” 

“Perhaps you need to practice with a worthy partner.” His eyes glittered as he raised an eyebrow. Grace’s face paled before she looked at Natasha, her furrowed brows asking if he was saying what she _thought_ he was saying.

Natasha smirked and shrugged, giving away nothing and leaving Grace to figure out if he was offering his massive, beautiful body for her to play with on her own.

For once, the clench of arousal occurred naturally, not due to an awkward situation. She gave Thor a shy smile and said, “From what I’ve heard, you seem worthy.” As soon as she said it she frowned. Where did that come from?

He grinned wider, if that was possible, and rose to his feet, not bothering to step out of her personal space. She took a deep breath and couldn’t help but close her eyes with a sigh. Thor smelled like the forest behind her house after a heavy downpour: a perfect combination of earth, and water, with the sharp zing of ozone.

It reminded her of all the time she spent wandering through the damp forest after Carl and Melissa took her in, reveling in the freedom to explore that she hadn’t had as a child. The scent put her at ease, and she didn’t care how close he was standing or how awkward the situation was.

Thor tilted her chin up with one rough, meaty finger, and her eyes snapped open. “Would you allow me the honor?” he murmured for only her to hear. She found herself nodding. He was better than anything she imagined. Who would refuse an offer like that?

Raucous applause interrupted their intimate moment, and Grace stepped back. Her reaction to him was so beyond her normal. She needed to talk to Bruce about it.

When she looked back up at him, he was studying her with similar curiosity. Before she thought of something to say to him, Tony’s voice caught her attention.

“That’s right. Bruce Banner and I teamed up to revolutionize health care. Our device will blow all the other monitors on the market out of the water. It can read just about every function in the body _and_ it’s non-invasive. I designed a fancy little wristband to house the technology. Our first test subject has had no complaints.”

While he fielded questions, Grace almost tuned him out, until someone asked about the reason they created it and who their test subject was.

“Bruce had a little charity case he took on. The girl’s claustrophobic, couldn’t get into any of our machines without losing her mind, so we teamed up to make her something a little more accessible.”

“What exactly is wrong with her?” someone asked.

“What isn’t?” Tony said with a snort. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I don’t have all the details. Banner keeps all her notes and blood samples under lock and key, but I’m not about to deny my help when someone needs it. I’m a philanthropist, remember?” 

Grace frowned and looked at Natasha who was glaring at Tony. The small high she’d been riding came to a screeching halt, and an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She retrieved her drink from Natasha’s hand and gave Clint a quick hug before she escaped through the open door to the balcony.

The crisp night air had goosebumps erupting on the bare skin of her arms in seconds. She set her glass down and closed her eyes, rubbing the backs of her arms with her hands. The sensation was a welcome distraction from her distress.

She didn’t hear anyone, but she felt the warmth of someone’s presence behind her, and Grace bit her lower lip, building up the courage to socialize. Before she managed to, the heat moved closer and a newly familiar smell filled her nose.

“Thor,” she sighed. 

He moved to stand beside her and rested both palms on the marble edge of the balcony wall.

“Anthony’s words were a jab at you, were they not?” 

She tried to smile, but it ended up looking lopsided and awkward. “Yeah. He doesn't like me much.”

“You possess great magic within you. Do not let his misunderstanding cause you shame.”

A bitter chuckle left her lips. “Isn't magic is supposed to be fun? This seems more like a curse.”

Thor took her hand in his and stared into her eyes, frowning as he said, “You are mistaken. Should you learn to harness your abilities, you would become a force most formidable.”

Grace let his scent wash over her and remove the rest of her negative emotions. “Do you have magic? Is that why you smell so good?”

“You enjoy my scent?”

Grace took another deep breath and smiled. “I really do.” 

“You needn’t worry. ’Tis not magical in nature.”

Grace hummed, swallowing a mouthful of her cocktail. “Whatever it is, someone should bottle it.”

Inside, the lights dimmed, and the music echoed through the doorway into the open air. The crowd separated into two groups, those who danced, and those who didn't.

“Would you join me for a dance?”

Normally, Grace would have said no, but she was itching to try the dance moves Natasha taught her. The alcohol in her system had her feeling adventurous, so she said, “I’d love one,” and knocked back the rest of her drink in one swallow.

Thor offered her his arm, and they joined the moving mass in the center of the room.  
The plucky notes of Shape of You by Ed Sheeran rang out and Grace shook out her limbs before she guided his hands to rest on her waist and placed hers on his biceps since his shoulders towered above her. She rocked her hips back and forth in time with the music.

It took a few beats, but Thor found his footing and took the lead, using his size to his advantage as they moved around each other on the floor. He wasn’t as graceful a dance partner as Natasha, but he managed well enough.

The longer Grace rolled her body in front of him, the more his hands wandered, dipping lower on her hips until his fingers skimmed the curve of her butt. She bit her lip. Her usual self would be uncomfortable, but right now she wanted to be different. She wanted to be the girl who danced with a gorgeous man at a fancy party, so she stepped in closer, feeling the heat radiate off him right through the fabric of her dress.

She pressed her hands against his chest and they moved as one, slowly, intimately. Every part of her was awake. Each squeeze of his hands sent an electric shock from his palm straight to her core until she was aching. She returned the favor by teasing his nipples through the baby-soft fabric of his shirt with her thumbs. His eyes darkened, and he licked his lips, daring her to do more with a hard squeeze to her rear.

She stared him down, considering his challenge. Her eyes narrowed, but a firm body collided with her and it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. She separated herself from Thor, folding her arms over her chest as she turned around.

“Oh, I'm so clumsy today,” Natasha said as if she could ever be anything but graceful.

Grace’s cheeks were flushed, and her pulse pounded in her ears, but she was relieved. A dance was one thing, but that was something else. She touched Natasha’s arm with a tiny smile before she turned back to Thor and waved him over.

He leaned in close enough to hear her say, “I’m not feeling too great, I’m going to get a drink. Thank you for the dance.”

He bowed his head, acknowledging that the moment was over. “You were a most excellent dancing partner, my lady.”

“Let’s get you some water, dancing queen,” Natasha said, hooking their arms at the elbows before she led Grace off the dance floor.

When they were out of Thor’s earshot, Natasha whispered, “I taught you those moves with Steve in mind. I would have spiced it up a little if I’d pictured you using them on Thor.”

Grace cringed. “I wasn’t planning on using them on anyone. That cocktail was probably roofied or something. I wouldn’t put it past Tony.”

“I should have introduced you to Thor months ago. You looked so happy out there dancing with him.”

Grace shook her head and blushed. They came up to the bar, and the bartender flashed them a wink as he passed over two tumblers of ice water. The long sip Grace took cooled her overheated body the second it passed her lips. Away from Thor’s presence, she felt a little more collected. He was like a bandage for her inner turmoil, but she thought more clearly when he wasn’t standing nearby.

The rest of the guests were having a great time, but the thrill was waning for Grace. The crowd and the noise became more irritating than exciting, so she turned to Natasha and said, “I’m heading home. You don't have to come, I’m going to get out of this dress and go to bed.”

Natasha noticed a few people she still wanted to touch base with before she called it a night, so she agreed. Grace gave her a quick hug before she made a beeline for the door, keeping her eyes glued to the floor to keep from making eye contact with Thor or Tony. She slipped through the door unnoticed and headed for an elevator.

She didn’t notice him, but a man in a tuxedo followed her out, keeping his distance. There was a large group piling into the elevator, so Grace stepped to the side, waiting for the next one. The man hovered out of her line of sight, pulling out his cell phone and sending a code.

* * *

Back inside the party, Thaddeus Ross’s phone beeped in his pocket. He moved to an empty corner to check the message. His inside man sent him the signal that their target was on the move. He called the third number on his speed dial.

“ _Is this the signal?_ ”

“Change of plans. Banner has samples of her blood in his lab. Leave the girl for now. That will be enough to start.”

“ _Oh, come on. Do you know how long I’ve been sitting out here staring at this chick’s window? You promised me a kidnapping. You’re cramping my style, Thunderbolt._ ”

“I told you not to call me that. Get the blood, or you don’t get paid.” Ross snapped the dated flip phone shut. He meandered to the door, peeking into the hallway. His man made eye contact and Ross shook his head, then sent the signal code to the man he’d called, and blended back in with the partygoers as the elevator doors slid open.

* * *

When the doors slid shut without anyone shouting for her to hold the elevator, the tension fell from Grace’s body and she mentally thanked whatever higher power was smiling down on her. Crowded elevators were one thing she couldn’t take.

“Can you take me home, JARVIS?” she said out loud.

“Certainly, Miss Kinney.”

The elevator eased into motion, quickly ascending toward Grace’s destination. She was halfway there when the car lurched to a stop. She stumbled and caught herself with her palms against the cold metal doors. The lights flickered twice before shutting off and drowning her in darkness.

“JARVIS?”

There was no answer.

Her right hand groped at her hip automatically, finding rough beaded fabric instead of a pocket. She didn’t have her phone, her wrist monitor, or anything else she could use to call out for help. Her fingers found the seam in the doors, but there was not even enough room between them to slide her fingernail in.

She was stuck in the dark, and no one knew where she was. After a deep breath, she took three steps back and hit the back wall.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Three steps? The space had felt larger with the lights on. Without the aid of sight, her perception fluctuated wildly. Her mind made her believe the walls of the elevator were closing in around her, and the air seemed to grow thicker and warmer with each shallow breath she took.

How much oxygen did an elevator have? She hadn’t seen any vents, and no air was getting in through those doors. A human being couldn’t survive that long without oxygen. She didn’t remember how long. The lack of air must be affecting her already.

Grace sank to the floor when her legs quivered too much to hold her up. Tears rolled down her cheeks for a few minutes as her anxiety built up, leaving her chest tight and heaving as she called for help. There was no way anyone would hear her, but it was her only option.

That voice inside that sounded like her mother whispered that no one even missed her. Natasha was glad she’d decided to head home and stop weighing her down. The elevator would fall, and they wouldn’t even look for her. They’d just build a new one, and she’d rot away, trapped forever in a metal box.

Her breaths sped up, and her head swam, but before she hyperventilated into unconsciousness, the screech of metal on metal nearly shattered her eardrums.

She curled in on herself and covered her ears. The screech had to be cables snapping. The elevator was about to fall, there was no doubt in her mind. She should brace herself, but would that even help? 

Alone in that elevator, Grace wept. She wept because she was helpless. Anyone else could probably get out of an elevator, but she was weak. She was useless and pathetic. She deserved to die in an elevator because she chose to sit at home instead of training like Natasha wanted her to. 

The floor beneath her jolted, and she screamed in terror, praying out loud for anyone to help her.

“Hang on, Pinky, I’m here. I’m gonna get you out,” a familiar voice shouted above her head.

She looked up and saw a blue light coming around the edges of the ceiling. It had to be coming from Tony’s suit. “Please get me out of here,” she cried.

“Relax, kid. You’re fine. That elevator’s not going anywhere.”

“No, it’s falling. I’m going to die in here,” she sobbed. 

Tony snorted as he scraped around on top of the box. “Your lack of faith in me is astounding. I’ll have you know I designed this elevator myself. It’s the safest one in the world. This thing can withstand an earthquake.”

Everything shook again, and there was a blast of blinding light that made Grace cover her eyes with her arms. “I can’t fall to my death, so you’re going to blow me up?” 

“Calm down, the bolts are sticky. Someone must be slacking on maintenance. If I go get some of my tools–”

“No,” she cut him off with a desperate cry. “Don’t leave me here, please. I know you hate me, but you can’t leave me in here alone. I don't want to die, Tony. Please,” she begged. 

“Hey, now. Sit down and take a deep breath for me. You’re not going to die. Not while I'm around. I’ll figure it out with the stuff I’ve got in my suit, okay?”

Grace’s teeth chattered as her adrenaline leveled off, and she nodded.

“Grace, you still with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m here.”

Tony continued to bang away at the top of the car, but he didn’t seem to be making any progress. “Is it working?” Grace said.

“Of course it is. You gotta stay calm in there though. I don’t think I can handle another two weeks of pink-filled dreams.”

Grace nodded, then frowned. She wasn’t sure what he meant. She also wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she needed a distraction.

“Hey Tony?”

He grunted in response.

Grace looked up even though she couldn’t see him. “What did you mean about the dreams?”

Tony groaned, taking a minute to respond. “After the uh, you know, I think you dosed me with your sex juice or something. I thought I was going nuts when I couldn’t get you out of my head for weeks.”

Grace didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t have time to say anything before another bright light blinded her. She yelped and squeezed her eyes shut, then scooted away from the source.

“You ready to get out of there?” Tony said, reaching one metal-covered arm into the elevator through the fancy new hole he’d made.

She stood slowly, still a little unsteady on her feet, and hugged the arm of his suit as tight as her trembling arms allowed. Her stomach flipped as he yanked her up through the escape hole, and she took a moment to get her bearings once her feet landed on the solid metal roof.

* * *

Being inside the elevator shaft wasn’t any better than the elevator itself. A few floors up a door was open, but everything above that faded to the darkest black she’d ever seen. She didn’t dare look over the edge, so she turned her focus to the only other human in reach.

He flipped his faceplate up and licked his lips. “So, it was _you_ with Romanoff, huh? I guess I should have known.” He appraised her with his eyes and gave a surprised hum at what he saw. “You clean up pretty good.” 

Grace leaned in with a frown and the smell of scotch hit her hard. “You flew that suit down here drunk?”

Tony rolled his eyes and folded his arms as much as one can fold their arms wearing a metal suit. “I’m not _drunk_.”

She still regarded him with skepticism. “So, what happened? Power outage?”

“There was a security breach in R&D. Some assholes shut down the elevators and the security systems on the lab floors so they could break in.”

Her eyes went wide, and she looked back up at the open door, half expecting to see the perpetrator running past it. “Why are you saving me? Shouldn’t you be catching the bad guys?”

“Whoever it was is long gone. Not sure how they got in and out in two minutes, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. Okay. So we’re safe?”

“Got it in one, sweet cheeks.” 

Grace narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“I wouldn’t get drunk when the tower’s full of strangers. I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

She looked down, sucking in a breath when she remembered where they were, and brought her eyes back up to his face. “Thank you. For saving me. I was losing my mind in there.”

Tony held his hand up to her face, using the added light to detect any hint of pink in her skin. “Is Big Sexy getting ready to come out and Jedi mind trick me into fucking you on top of this elevator?”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Stop. I’m fine. But I need to sit down, so can we get out of here?”

Tony held his arm out, and Grace cringed, but she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around his neck. He used his other hand and the repulsors in his boots to launch them upwards and through the open door. When Grace got her feet back on solid ground, she collapsed in a heap, resting her forehead against the cool tile floor. 

If the floor hadn’t been a floor, she would have kissed it. “I’m never riding in an elevator again.”

“Well, there’s always the stairs.”

She hummed. The exercise would do her some good. She sat up and looked around. “What floor are we on?”

“Yours, actually. Need a hand getting to your door, or can you handle it?”

She kept her head pressed to the floor and waved him off. “I got it. Once I can feel my legs again, I'll get up. What happened to all your guests?”

“Still partying, I assume. The power outage only hit the lab floors and the elevators. My guests were none the wiser. Unless they were trying to leave, I guess.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“JARVIS. He said you were in the elevator when it went offline.”

She tilted her head, staring him in the eyes. “You left your party? For me?”

“Well, I didn’t want you turning pink and starting an orgy,” Tony said, holding her gaze. “Or being scared,” he added softly before he looked away.

Tears stung her already tired eyes, and she picked at the rumpled fabric of her dress so Tony wouldn’t see. “Good call.”

They sat in awkward silence for a minute before Grace gave a wet sniff and said, “Your guests are probably missing their host.”

Tony nodded. “Want me to send someone up here? Natasha? Ooh, or Thor? That was you shaking your groove thing with him on my dance floor earlier, right? Didn’t know you had those kinds of moves.”

Grace groaned and forced herself up from the floor, using the wall for balance as she headed for her door. The lock clicked open before her hand reached for the knob and she turned to face Tony one last time. “Hey, Tony?”

He raised a brow.

“We’re even.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he gave her a salute before he disappeared back down through the entrance to the elevator shaft.

Grace walked into her apartment and collapsed on the couch, unable to stand anymore. She worked her shoes off with her toes and shifted to lie on her back. All she wanted to do was to shut her eyes and forget the evening’s events, but when she closed them, it was like she was back in the elevator. She knew she was safe, but that little voice kept saying, “What if?” 

What if she’d dreamed up her rescue. What if she was actually dead right now. What if she was unconscious, about to wake any second and find herself still trapped there in that dark, cold box. She stared at the light above her head until her eyes stung and she had to blink, then she did it again. Even the split second it took to blink was too much darkness. 

“Can you turn all the lights on in here, JARVIS?” 

“Certainly, Miss Kinney,” his chipper voice responded. 

In seconds, her entire apartment was lit up like it was the middle of the day. It helped.

Until she noticed the silence. 

In a normal house, you would hear the ticking of a clock or the hum of a refrigerator, but everything was too efficient in her apartment. The clocks were digital, and the appliances were too fancy to make much noise. 

“Could you turn on some music? Something soft, I think. No percussion.”

“Of course.” 

A soothing acoustic guitar melody rang through the room. Or it would have been soothing on any other day, but at that moment it grated on Grace’s ears like the tines of a fork screeching across a dinner plate. Her hands flew up to cover her ears as she winced. 

“Never mind, turn it off. Please turn it off.” 

The music cut off and she bathed in silence once more. She took a shuddering breath and her lips quivered before painful tears fell from her eyes. She tried to curl herself up into a ball, but the roughness of her dress aggravated her skin, so she straightened back out. 

Every inch of her felt like an exposed nerve, raw and overly sensitive to any stimulation.

Her chest already ached from sobbing in the elevator. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Not when crying hurt more than it helped. She needed something to take the edge off, and all she could think of was Thor. His presence had been like a soothing balm during her earlier stress. Maybe he could help her now.

“JARVIS?” her voice warbled. 

“Yes, Miss Kinney?”

She sniffed and tried to pull it together enough to talk without crying. “Is Thor still at the party?”

“He is. Shall I call him for you?”

Grace worried her lip between her teeth. Calling him up here when they’d only just met was a weird thing to do, but she knew she wouldn’t get to sleep tonight without some outside help. She was just too high strung.

“I think so. Could you tell him, uh, ask him if he will come up here? If he’s not busy.”

After a minute, JARVIS spoke again. “Prince Thor has agreed to your request and is en route. Shall I unlock the door for him?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Nervous energy churned in her gut, on top of the mess of other emotions doing their best to drown her. She might be losing her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It had been a long day that turned into a terrifying night, and she needed to put her fears behind her. She could let go just this once.

Five minutes later, a forceful knock rattled the door in its frame. “Come in,” she called, her voice cracking.

Thor stepped cautiously into her apartment, scanning the room until he found her sprawled out on the couch. Grace gave him a half smile, waving him over with one limp-wristed hand. He glanced behind him into the hall for a second before he shut the door with a resounding thud-click.

He walked to her side, blocking out the overhead light with his massive frame. “Are you unwell?”

She shook her head, having trouble finding her words. The reality of him in her apartment was overwhelming. She wanted to tell him she changed her mind, tell him to leave, she kept her mouth shut to keep the words from spilling out. She needed to try this. If it didn’t work, she would call Bruce and see if he could give her something to knock her out.

When he crouched to get closer to her level, the scent and the warmth she craved washed over her like a soothing wave and she groaned in relief. Her theory had been correct. 

“Wow, that’s good. You’re like human Xanax. Or not human I guess. Where are you from again?”

“I am of Asgard.”

“Maybe it’s an Asgard thing, then. If your friends come visit, you should introduce me.”

“I shall, should the occasion arise. I wasn’t aware that you’d left Anthony’s party. Did our dance upset you?”

“No, it wasn’t your fault. I got tired and left early, then I got trapped in the elevator for a while. Tony saved my life though. I’m sorry I called you. I was feeling out of control.”

Worry showed on Thor’s face as he looked her over. “You have been through quite an ordeal. Is your power under control?”

Grace shook her head with a frown. “Yeah, it’s fine. That’s not why I called. I wanted you to come because I couldn’t… I mean, you make me feel really good. Oh, shoot, I’m making this weird. I’m sorry.” She turned away from him and rubbed her temples with one hand.

Thor looked flattered rather than disgusted by her words. “You would enjoy physical contact?”

She glanced back up at him and nodded slowly.

He eyed the couch with skepticism. “May I carry you to your bedroom?”

Grace paused. Cuddling on the couch was one thing, taking it to the bedroom was another.

Thor noticed her hesitation and added, “I’ll do nothing without your permission, my lady. I am a man of honor.”

She relaxed then, nodding. His enormous arms scooped her up with minimal effort, and he cradled her to his chest as he carried her into her bedroom. Their faces were so close she could see the hints of red mixed in with the golden brown hair of his beard.

He stopped at the edge of her bed and deposited her on top of her mattress, slipping off his jacket to reveal the deep grey tunic shirt he wore underneath. After she scooted to the other side, he settled down beside her and they rested there on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

For several minutes the only noise in the room was the sound of their breathing: hers soft and shallow, his deep and relaxed. She was right, the lingering unease dissipated more with each breath she took. She’d never met a person who put her at ease like him. The thought made her consider taking him up on his offer of “sparring” together.

For now, though, she was fine just being next to him and filling her lungs with his soothing essence. Or she would have been if he hadn’t just shifted his hot hand over to engulf hers where it rested at her side.

Her heart picked up its pace, thudding away in her chest as she stared straight up. He could probably hear it. She turned her head and found him already watching her. “Do you have super hearing like Steve?”

Thor shrugged his massive shoulders. “I can hear quite well, though I don’t know how my ears compare to Steven’s.”

“Hmm,” she said, interlacing their fingers. She had never done this before. Coming to New York had opened her eyes to so many things she had missed out on. She wanted to make the most of it, so she scooted closer to him, eager for more contact.

She tried to get comfortable on her side, but her dress was stiff, and the fancy beads dug into her skin. If she was going to snuggle with a man she’d just met, she was damn well going to be comfortable while she did it.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” she said, holding up a warning finger at him. He grinned and folded his hands, resting them behind his head. She stared at the way his muscles moved and contracted for a long minute before she scrambled off her bed and stepped into her closet, holding her finger up again before she shut herself inside.

“Are you kidding me,” she whispered when she realized her dress was still buttoned and zipped in the back. She didn’t want to go back and ask him to unzip her, so she reached back, fiddling with the button at the back of her neck for a bit until it finally came undone. The zipper was a little trickier, but through some contortion, she got it open enough to twist it around and unzip the rest.

She didn’t bother hanging it up, just let it fall to the ground in a sparkly, expensive puddle. After she wiggled out of her shapewear, damning it to the same fate as her dress, she paused.

The new “sleepwear” she had purchased that day was lovely, but it wasn’t in her plans to sleep with Thor. Not today, at least. Even if he was a ‘man of honor,’ she didn’t feel right tempting him to behave with her lying there in lingerie, so she threw on a loose t-shirt and some pajama pants before she slid the closet door back open.

Thor hadn’t moved an inch, and his eyes were on her the second she came into view. He looked like a lion, majestic and regal as his blond waves cascaded over her pillows, glittering in the bright light. She had a moment of hair envy as she walked to the edge of the bed. His eyes tracked her as she crawled back up to lie beside him.

“Better?” he rumbled.

She nodded, and he stretched his arm out, encouraging her to snuggle up to him. She scooted in close, and he let his arm fall against her back as she rested her head on his bicep.

Up close he smelled even stronger, and she had the urge to bury her nose in his underarm. Grace knew it would be weird, so she resisted. She was close enough to get a good whiff of him anyway, so she sniffed the air deeply and allowed herself to relax.

He trailed his fingers over the bare skin on her forearm, leaving a wave of goosebumps in their wake. Grace turned more onto her side and brought her hand up to rest on his chest. She traced the dips and swells of his pectorals through his shirt. It had to be from Asgard. She’d never touched such soft material in her life.

Thor cleared his throat, and the sound vibrated through his body right into hers. She glanced up and found his eyes on her again. The hunger she found in his gaze lit her on fire and the arousal from earlier came crackling back.

Her eyes fell to his flushed pink lips, and she thought about Jake, the flirtatious handyman. He'd intrigued her, but what she felt now was like a storm that threatened to wash her away. She’d been irritated before when Natasha tried to convince her to call him or even kiss him, but maybe she’d been too quick to dismiss the idea that she could hit it off with a relative stranger.

For whatever reason, she was comfortable with Thor. She didn’t have that nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her she didn’t deserve this. Instead, it said ‘you’ll regret it if you don’t,’ and she had enough regrets in her life. 

Grace licked her lips as she stared at his mouth. Would his neatly trimmed beard tickle, or would it scratch? And what did a god taste like? He seemed to know what she was after, judging by the way his free hand cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, only opening them when his thumb brushed over her lips. Her tongue darted out, tasting the salt on his skin.

His pupils flared, and she bit her lips between her teeth, pulling them away from his wandering finger. He let his hand slide back, cupping the back of her head as he inched closer, keeping his eyes on her mouth. When he was only an inch away, he paused, his warm breath coaxing her into relaxing. She waited, but he stayed still, hovering just out of reach.

She glanced up into his eyes, and he met her gaze, raising his brows in challenge. He was leaving the choice up to her. Kiss him. Or don’t. It wasn’t even a question in her mind anymore if she wanted to or not, so with her next breath she leaned in, sealing the contact between their lips.

That electric feeling she’d gotten when he kissed her hand before magnified tenfold, and it lit her body up like a live wire. The simple brush of lips evolved into something wet and filthy as their lips parted to make room for their tongues to caress. The moans that left Grace’s mouth were loud and unrestrained, and when she could focus on more than just feeling, she would be thankful that this round of intimacy had no audience.

His beard was softer than she imagined it would be; it tickled more than anything. She brought her hands up to his cheeks to smooth it down with her palms while pulling him closer as she pushed her own tongue between his lips. She didn’t have much experience, but he didn’t seem to mind what she was doing so far.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and made a loose fist. When she gasped, he sunk his teeth into her lower lip, sending a thrill down her spine that grew when he used her hair to tug her head back while keeping her lip trapped. It was a promise of something dark and dirty that she’d never allowed herself to want, and the dampness between her thighs became a flood.

He released her lip and groaned when her scent reached his nose, panting hard as he closed his eyes. The tingle that crawled up the back of Grace’s spine had her whimpering. She shifted around, desperate for some friction to ease the empty ache in her core.

Thor couldn’t keep his eyes off her thighs. He gripped her hip, and she stilled, curious what he would do. He pushed her onto her back, then brought his knee up between her legs until she knew he felt the heat from her right through his trousers.

The pressure was perfect. It had Grace’s eyes rolling back and her whimpers grew louder.

“Let me guide you to your release,” Thor growled into her ear, rubbing her hard with his muscular thigh.

She nodded, her nose scrunched on one side as she breathed through her open mouth. He kept a steady rhythm, grinding against her throbbing clit. The silky fabric of her panties was cooler than her overheated folds and slid against her easily, saturated with her arousal.

He captured her lips again to smother the cries falling from her mouth. She wrapped both arms around his neck, rocking her hips against his leg. Her hands wound into his hair, trying not to pull it, but needing an anchor. It was too much and not enough, but she wasn’t about to say a word. She was so close to breaking.

He hitched her body up close to his, holding on tight as he planted his toes on the mattress. He bounced his leg up and down, acting as a makeshift vibrator to send shock waves of pleasure through her. The change in sensation was enough to make her come, and she clamped her thighs around his leg hard as the waves of sensation coursed through her.

Thor pressed gentle kisses to the top of her head as she shuddered against him. When he finally pulled away, she flopped back, unable to hold herself up anymore. The fading electric feeling sizzled through her lips with each beat of her heart.

Giggles erupted from her as she rolled to her side, her chest heaving harder than if she’d tried to run a marathon. “Thanks,” she sighed, grinning as he wiped the light sheen of sweat from his brow.

“I believe it is you who has proven to be the most worthy tonight, Lady Grace.” She studied his face, giggling again when she saw the state he was in, lips just as red as hers and hair a wild nest from her hands.

Grace scrunched up her face as a deep yawn escaped her mouth. It lasted so long that tears gathered in her eyes. Thor chuckled, smoothing her hair out of her face as she blinked them away.

“Your body is exhausted. Shall I leave so you can rest?”

Grace wanted to ask him to stay, but she knew she would have a hard time controlling herself if he stayed. He smelled and tasted too good, and after that orgasm, she was ready to pass out.

“You probably should. Thank you. I needed that.”

“Should you desire my attention again, all you must do is send for me. Next time I’ll worship your body the way it deserves.”

Grace’s eyes widened and all her spare blood rushed into her cheeks as she gaped at Thor. He laughed again, then he leaned back in to press one last, much more gentle kiss on her lips before he rose from her bed.

He waited until she was watching, then adjusted himself in his slacks, giving himself a slow stroke from tip to root and back. Even through the dark fabric, she could tell he was packing some serious heat. She gasped and grabbed a pillow from behind her, then lobbed it at him, missing by at least five feet.

When he laughed at her, she grabbed the pillow he’d been using and covered her face with it, peeking over the top to watch as he exited her bedroom. Grace stayed silent until she heard her front door latch, then she let out a squeal and pounded her fists on her mattress.

She did it. She took control, and nothing bad happened. He didn’t push her for more than she offered, although an orgasm hadn’t been part of her game plan. But he kept his hands out of her pants and didn’t guilt her into reciprocating. Instead of feeling dirty for it, she felt relieved. And hopeful. Tomorrow she would definitely feel differently, but for now, she was going to embrace it. She shut the lights off, almost giggling when the darkness didn’t phase her. 

Sleep came fast and easy that night, and she didn’t wake up until the next morning when she heard a pounding on the front door.


	11. Magic Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace gets some bad news, some advice, and takes a step in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less than a month! I'm improving on my turn around time. Thanks for the comments on the last chapter. This one hasn't been beta read, but I'm impatient so I'm posting it now. Slight adjustments might happen after it gets a once over from my ladies.

Grace tied her robe and rubbed at the raccoon eyes she surely had before she yanked the front door open. Bruce stood across the threshold, his face scrunched up and sweaty.

“Why don’t any of you believe in letting people sleep?” she snapped.

Bruce ignored her question and put his hand on her arm. He was as close to tears as she had ever seen him. “I’m sorry Grace. I thought my lab was secure. I’m so sorry.”

Her irritation melted into confusion as she stared down at his hand. Bruce never touched her. He was the only one who respected her disdain for uninvited physical contact.

She stepped back and pulled her arm from his grip. “Slow down and tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay?”

“You didn’t read my messages?”

“I was asleep until you tried to beat my door down.”

Bruce groaned and wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. “Someone burglarized my lab. They got my notebook. And your blood samples.”

The knot in her stomach ached. “What was in there?” She cringed before adding, “Nothing from my notebooks, right?”

Bruce’s apologetic expression answered her question, and she sank to the floor, cradling her face in her hands.

He crouched beside her, rubbing her back to try and ground her before she lost control. “There were only a few notes, incidents you wrote about that I mentioned when we were looking for triggers. And some stuff about your mother. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have written any of it down.”

Grace’s lungs clenched tight in her chest, keeping her from drawing more than a shallow breath. It wasn’t fair. She’d tried so hard to leave her past behind, but now some random thug had intimate details of her childhood, some she had never even spoken out loud.

What if they found her mother? If she learned about Grace living with Tony Stark, she’d claw her way back into her life just to get a taste of the luxury she’d always craved, and Grace would never be able to get rid of her. She’d have to change her name again and run for it.

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks at the prospect of leaving everything behind again. It had been easy to run when she was a teenager. All she'd had was her mother, and that wasn’t saying much. Now she had a family, actually two families, full of people who believed she was worth something and didn’t blame her for everything that went wrong.

“We’ll figure it out. It will be okay,” Bruce said. 

Grace clenched her teeth so hard Bruce could hear them grind together. “How? How is this going to be okay? We don’t even know who it was.” She slapped her palm against the floor, hissing at the pain that shot through her bones.

“I'm sorry,” Bruce sighed. He didn’t want to lie to her. It was a nightmare, and he had failed to protect her like he promised. He knew better than anyone else what she had to lose, and it sickened him knowing he’d compromised the safety she’d sacrificed everything for.

He sat there beside her in silence, unsure how to help, so he kept her company. When her sobs softened, he glanced down at her bare wrist. “Did you stop wearing the monitor?”

Grace lifted her head, blinking at the heavy sensation and rubbed the wrist she wore it on. “I took it off before the party. Didn’t match my dress.”

The corners of Bruce’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “Tony’s party? I didn’t know you were going.”

“Natasha dragged me to it.”

“Ah. I didn’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Crowds of people don’t agree with me anymore. And I’m friends with genius Tony, not playboy Tony,” Bruce said, shifting his weight on the floor. 

Grace nodded. She would have laughed at that idea until last night, but the Tony who saved her from the elevator wasn’t the same man as the one making jokes at her expense an hour earlier.

“It might be Tony’s fault that someone broke into your lab,” she said with a frown. 

“Why do you say that?”

“He was bragging about my monitor and how he would change the face of healthcare or something. He mentioned that he designed it to help a charity case of yours.”

Bruce frowned. “I don't think you’re a charity case. He doesn’t speak for everyone here.” 

She chuckled through her nose before her face turned serious again and she said in a small voice, “I got trapped in the elevator last night when they broke into your lab.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up and he looked her over for damage. “I had no idea. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I thought I was going to die, but Tony got me out.”

“You didn’t, uh..”

“No. Thank God. Or gods? I’m not really sure where my beliefs lie on that anymore. For whatever reason, it didn’t happen. Maybe my control is getting better.”

Grace tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear, revealing a red, irritated patch of skin on her neck. Bruce forgot himself again and ran his finger over it. She flinched away with a gasp.

Grace brought her own hand up to her neck and touched the tender area. “I didn’t even feel him do that.”

“Tony did that to you?” Bruce looked toward the door with green-tinted eyes as he clenched his fists.

Grace grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “No, Bruce. Calm down. It wasn’t Tony. It was Thor. I was actually going to come talk to you about it today.”

Bruce scowled, but the green receded from his irises. “When did you meet Thor?”

“At the party,” she said, looking at the floor as her cheeks flushed.

Bruce studied the spot on her neck through narrowed eyes. It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t imagine any turn of events that could lead to Thor giving Grace what looked like beard burn if she didn’t pink out.

She had a smile on her face he’d never seen before; it was small and shy, but it reached her eyes. “There’s just something about him. He kept me from getting upset at the party when I heard Tony talking about me. I was in bad shape after the elevator. I couldn't even close my eyes, so I asked him to come, and he dropped everything to help me. Somehow he calmed me down, and I got some rest.”

Bruce mulled over the information in his mind. His fingers itched to write what she said down in his notebook but he would not make that mistake again. Nothing was safe anymore.

The burglar shut down the power and all the security for the area, and they had gotten into his lab even though it seals from the inside during a power outage. They were in and out in two minutes, and there was no evidence of them. It made no sense, so he turned his focus on something that science probably could explain.

“I wonder if Thor would run some experiments with you. There may be a molecular reason for his effect.”

Grace shrugged. “I guess I could ask.” It made sense. Thor might be the key to fixing her or at least managing her power. She would do just about anything not to be a sitting duck anymore.

She looked at Bruce with fearful eyes. “You don’t think they’d hurt me, do you?”

“I wish I could tell you they wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t be true. People have proven themselves to be hateful and selfish frequently. We should prepare you for the worst, just in case.”

Grace picked at her nails. She almost wished he’d lied to her. She wasn’t ready to face the reality that she was in real danger. Natasha had warned her about threats to her safety when they first met, but she hadn’t trusted her back then.

Last week she wouldn’t have taken Bruce’s recommendation seriously, but her experience in the elevator had changed something inside her. She never wanted to feel weak and helpless again. She wanted to have the skills to save herself no matter what life threw at her.

Grace excused herself and retrieved her monitor off the bathroom counter where she'd left it before the party and fastened it back on her wrist. It ran through all the initial programming and read her within a few minutes.

When she returned to the living room, Bruce was sitting on the couch with a blank expression that made her heart hurt. He probably felt violated after having his space invaded by a stranger, so she stopped by the kitchen and started her hot water pot and grabbed her little box of assorted teas. 

She returned to the living room and held out the box to Bruce. He rifled through it before selecting an orange cinnamon tea that was one of her favorites, so she dug out a packet for herself. She steeped the tea for a few minutes and added honey to hers before she joined Bruce on the couch. They sipped together in silence, just comforting each other with their presence. 

After she swallowed her last mouthful, Grace looked over at Bruce and said, “I missed you.”

He gave her a shy smile. “Me too. You ought to stop by the lab more often like you used to. Although if you train, we might see more of each other.”

Grace blew a breath through the corners of her mouth. “How am I going to manage this?”

“I’ve got a few theories about that. Back when I first had my accident, I had to process some difficult things and give into the feelings I was trying so hard to ignore to stop it from controlling me. I had to let myself feel the hurt and the anger and accept it.”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “But I'm not angry. I can't just tell myself that I'm confident and sexy and go sleep with some random guy.”

“That’s not what I said. What I meant is that you should open yourself up to the possibility of intimacy.” 

Grace folded her arms over her chest and looked at the floor. “That's easy for you to say. You could figure yourself out without involving anyone else.” 

“What about Steve?”

Grace scowled at him and shook her head. She hadn’t even seen Steve since their awkward encounter. The more time passed, the more comfortable she was just never talking to him again. 

“Okay, how about Thor? If he calms you down, he might be the perfect person to try with. It seems like you at least like him a little.”

Grace didn't shoot him down. He wasn't wrong. “But I can't just go up to him and proposition him. I mean, he kind of implied that I could, but that's nuts, right?”

Bruce shrugged. “It doesn't seem that bad compared to giant space worms flying through a portal in the sky. Besides, Thor isn’t from here. He doesn’t have the same relationship constructs we do. I don’t know how it works in Asgard, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.” 

Grace couldn't argue with that logic. “Okay, let's say I do it. Would you have to be watching again? Because I don't think I can deal with that. And would I be me, or would I have to trigger myself somehow?”

Bruce scratched his head and looked around for something to write on. Grace had an open envelope sitting on the coffee table and he held it up. “May I?

She nodded, and he pulled a pen from his pocket and drew a makeshift chart, with boxes for different categories and passed it to Grace to inspect. 

She looked it over. He had boxes for “activities” and times with adjacent boxes for her reactions afterward.

“If you kept a log like this, I could just cross-check it against the data from the bracelet. You wouldn’t even have to say what you were doing. You can tell me as much or as little as you want me to know,” he said.

Grace didn’t respond for a few minutes as she considered it in her mind. The logic seemed sound, aside from the fact that her best option was to drop her carefully constructed walls and allow someone to see the parts of her she wanted to stay hidden. Other than that, it made complete sense.

“Okay. Give me a little time to process. And could you make me a real spreadsheet? Excel was never my forte.”

“Sure. I’ll draw one up and have JARVIS send it to your printer.”

Bruce finished the last of his tea and set his mug down next to Grace’s on the coffee table. He watched her picking at her fingernails, sensing she had something else to say.

“Can I really do this?” she whispered.

He reached his hand over to her with caution, resting it on her shoulder when she didn’t pull away. “I know you don’t believe this, but the image you have of yourself in your head is wrong. Anyone would be lucky to show you how beautiful you are.”

Grace blushed and buried her face in her hands. Praise was still hard for her to hear, no matter how much her friends threw at her. She hoped someday she could see herself the way they saw her.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know what Thor says. Oh, wait. Does he even stay here?”

“Yeah, his place is on the next floor up. Pretty sure Tony went all out decorating his place.”

Bruce sat for a minute longer before he got up from the couch. Grace looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

“You’ve got a lot to think about, and I’ve got to go talk to Tony about the break-in and see if JARVIS has any leads.”

Grace thanked him for stopping by and showed him out.

Once she was alone again, she went to the bathroom and stripped her robe and pajamas off. She stared at her reflection, willing herself to see past her imperfections. If she could always see the good in other people and what made them beautiful why couldn’t she do the same with herself?

After five minutes of intense scrutiny, she sighed and left the bathroom, flicking off the light as she did. She had a goal for the day: Talk to Thor. It was easier said than done. Everything in her wanted to stay home and just go back to the way she was before she realized how vulnerable she was, but it wasn’t possible.

She tried to rationalize it in her mind. It didn’t have to be this huge obstacle. She could treat it like a workout regimen, with a schedule, and a checklist. Then they wouldn’t have to open themselves up to disappointment.

She grabbed her favorite new underwear set, the soft blue ones that boosted her confidence through the roof. After she slipped the bra and panties on, she pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a pale green long sleeved shirt, then threw her hair into a bun.

When she eased her door open, she found her floor was empty as usual. She glanced at the elevator doors with a shudder and headed the opposite direction to the seldom-used stairwell.

Each step echoed off the walls as she climbed the flight of stairs. When she reached the next floor, she took a peek over the edge of the railing. The empty gap in the center of the spiral of steps was just as terrifying as she expected it to be, though it seemed to be lit up the entire way down, not a cavern of darkness like the elevator shaft.

She forced a lungful of air through her pursed lips and tugged on the door handle for Thor’s floor. It wouldn’t budge.

“JARVIS? Could you unlock this door?”

“My apologies, Miss Kinney. Sir is running a series of tests on my mainframe and I failed to anticipate your needs.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grace said. The door clicked, and she tugged again. It glided open this time. “Thanks, J.” 

“You are welcome.”

Their floors were identical, apart from the distressed wooden door in the center of the hall that had to be Thor’s. It screamed Viking, down to the burnt on symbols, and his immense presence radiated through it.

She petted the rough surface before knocking. The familiar sound warmed her heart. She’d almost forgotten what a knock on real wood sounded like after being surrounded by metal for months. There was an odd sound on the other side of the door, then it swung open and Thor greeted her with a wide, warm smile.

“Lady Grace, you look far more rested than last I saw you,” he boomed, stepping aside to let her in. 

She squeezed past his massive frame and he shut the door before leading her through the room. The layout was like hers, but the decor was far more unique. Several thick fur rugs covered the floor, and on the walls hung quite a few otherworldly weapons and two large tapestries. One had a stylized scene from what Grace guessed was the battle of New York unless Asgard had skyscrapers. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she wasn’t even in the tower anymore. 

She approached the other one. It was almost as tall as she was, depicting a large tree with twisting branches and colorful islands floating around it. Thor came up behind her, startling her as he reached past her to trace the bright blue chunk at the top of the tree.

“Has anyone told you of Yggdrasil?”

Grace looked up over her shoulder at him and shook her head, biting her lip when his buttery shirt tickled her cheek. She pressed her temple against his chest, closing her eyes as his rumbling voice told the story of the tree that connected the nine realms. Halfway through the story, his left arm snaked its way between her arms and her waist, holding her to him right below her breasts.

His voice painted a picture of a reality she had never considered, and the more he told her about each world and the beings that inhabited them, the more insignificant her fears and worries seemed. There was so much outside of the problems she built up in her head. Why shouldn’t she allow herself to be happy?

After his story drew to a close, Grace turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his solid middle. He returned the embrace and his beard hairs snagged her hair as he rubbed his chin back and forth.

Grace pulled away and said, “I have a favor to ask you.” 

“Anything,” Thor answered. The kindness she found in his eyes eased some of her anxiety. He led her to his couch, which was more of a bench carved from one massive slab of wood.

She shifted her weight trying to get comfortable on the hard surface. “Did you bring this from Asgard?”

Thor chuckled and stroked the glossy wood with his hand like he was petting a cat. “Anthony acquired a horde of furniture left over from the Vikings of the North as a gift. I believe he wanted me to feel more at home. I did not have the heart to tell him that Asgard doesn’t use such materials indoors.”

Grace laughed along with him before she slid to the floor. The thick white fur was far more comfortable to lounge on. Thor joined her, stretching out his long legs and leaning his back against the wooden seat.

“So, Bruce said the best way to control my power is to try some new things. And I'd like to do them with you.” She cringed at her wording and hoped he’d understand what she was trying to say.

He didn’t. His face was the picture of confusion and he waited for her to elaborate, so she sighed and picked at the hair of the rug before she continued. “I'm talking about sex.”

His eyes darkened in realization, and he ran his tongue over his lips as he gazed at her face. “You wish to experience the pleasures of the flesh?”

Her face flushed at his words, and she cleared her throat, which was drier than it had ever been. “Yes,” she squeaked, though it sounded more like a question than a definitive statement. 

He leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear, “It would be an honor to teach you everything I have learned in my lifetime.”

That irresistible smell of his surrounded her like a blanket and her breath caught in her throat. Bruce was right. Whatever it was about Thor made this seem far less scary.

She surged up and touched her lips to his, smiling against his mouth when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. That familiar electricity between them buzzed through her like a current. He licked her lips, waiting for them to part and let him in. His tongue was strong, just like the rest of him. It dominated hers and mapped her mouth. He pulled back after a few minutes, too soon in her opinion.

Thor took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Are you prepared for your first lesson?”

She dropped her eyes to the floor. She hadn’t expected to start today although some part of her must have considered it since she dressed for the occasion. Realizing that she hadn’t answered, she nodded, and he cleared his throat. Her eyes darted up to his face, and he said, “I must hear your permission before I continue.”

She blushed and said, “Yes, you have my permission,” though her voice wavered with nerves. 

He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I shall set a slow pace.” She let out a breath of relief and he said, “May I explore your body?”

She looked down at their hands. His swallowed hers and the size difference conjured up feelings of safety. There wasn't a person alive who could go through Thor, at least no one she'd met. He was the ultimate protector.

That decided for her, and she looked into his eyes and said, “Yes.”

He got up and strode off into what she guessed was his bedroom, coming back with an armful of pillows and an elegant teardrop shaped bottle with a fancy silver stopper.

“What’s in there?”

“An oil pressed from the flowers of the frosmorn tree that grows in the heart of the Suvyss forest on Vanaheim.”

Thor handed her the bottle, and she worked the stopper out and raised it to her nose. Her eyes fell shut, and she sighed in contentment. “It’s like a cedar chest with a pan of fresh almond cake inside. Is it for baking?”

“It is not. Its purpose is to soothe the body.”

Grace poured a large drop of the viscous liquid onto her finger and passed the bottle back to Thor. It glided between her fingers like water. She rubbed it between her palms and raised her hands back to her nose. The aroma was stronger on her skin, but not overwhelming.

“Remove your shirt,” Thor said.

Grace dropped her hands to her lap and gave him an incredulous stare. “Excuse me?”

“You gave me permission to explore you, did you not?”

“I _did_ , but I thought we were taking it slow.”

“I shall not penetrate you without your permission, but I wish to feel your body beneath my hands. I intend to touch every inch of you.”

Her eyes widened at his casual use of the word penetrate. This sort of thing would take some getting used to. “So you mean a back rub, right? I guess that’s slow. No funny business, though,” she said, narrowing her eyes in his direction. 

Thor nodded once, and she got up on her knees, turning her back to him as she pulled her shirt over her head. She covered her breasts with her hands even though her bra hid them from view, and looked over her shoulder at him.

He cocked an eyebrow, and she looked away with a flustered grunt. She took three slow breaths, then unhooked the bra and tossed it aside near her shirt. This time she folded her arms across her chest, smothering her breasts beneath them. They were barely a B cup, so it wasn’t difficult.

“And your trousers.”

She whipped her head around and scoffed at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’ll not touch you anywhere you do not desire.”

Grace shook her head. He was asking too much of her. They barely knew each other, and he wanted her naked. “Give yourself to a man and he’ll think he owns you. Once he’s ruined your body, he’ll throw you away like trash,” her mother’s voice echoed in her head. Grace frowned. People here thought she was worth their time and friendship. To them, she was enough. Her mother was wrong about most of the things she'd told her, so why should Grace listen now?

She unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her thighs until they fell to the floor on their own. “These are staying on,” she said, making sure her underwear covered everything she wasn't ready to show.

Thor gave her a close-lipped grin and handed her a pillow before he gestured to the rug at their feet.

Grace got onto her stomach without exposing herself any more than she already was. The silky, thick fur of the rug tickled her skin in just the right way, and the pillow that cradled her head smelled strongly like Thor, so she buried her face in it and let his essence overwhelm her senses.

“I think you’re giving me a weird scent kink if that’s even a thing,” she mumbled into the pillow.

Thor’s rich laugh reverberated through the room as he dropped to his knees over hips, supporting his weight on his heels. A light, euphoric energy surged through her body when she realized just how tiny she was under him. He could crush her without trying. The idea aroused her and she shivered.

His warm, calloused hands slid from her hips to her shoulders and down her arms to her fingers in one slow, even stroke. The oil lubricated her skin well and removed any friction. Each pass of his hands relaxed tension she’d held for far too long.

Thor shifted forward, still keeping his weight off her as his hands moved their focus to her shoulders. He pressed his thumbs on either side of her spine, working the muscles between her shoulder blades. His ring and pinky fingers rested in her armpits, occasionally dipping low enough to skim the sides of her breasts. Whenever they did, she jolted, her giggles stifled by the pillow.

“You should not have revealed your weakness,” Thor teased, letting his hands fall a little lower on her sides to graze the soft swells of flesh that squished out to the side under her weight. She clamped her arms down hard, trapping his fingers there and making it tickle more until she was gasping for air.

When she struggled beneath him Thor dislodged his hands and knee-walked back until he was no longer on top of her. He oiled up his hands again, dripping it down the length of both her legs with his fingers before rubbing it in with his palms.

It didn’t help her much–they were even more sensitive than her ribs had been. When he dug the heel of his hand into the tight tendons behind her knees, she had to tense up everything to keep from squirming. He moved slower, increasing the pressure until she relaxed once again.

It caught her off guard when his wandering fingers pressed their way between her thighs, too close to her most sensitive place, and she kicked out unconsciously, catching the apple of his cheek with her heel.

Thor sat back with a pained grunt and she shot up, crawling over to him with apologies flowing from her mouth the whole way. When she got near enough, she cradled his face in her hands and tilted his head to inspect the damage. She frowned. There wasn’t even a red mark.

“Can you even get hurt? I don’t know why I was so worried,” she said as she prodded his cheek, watching for any sign of discomfort. “I mean, you’re a god, so you’re invincible, right? You’d have to be to fight monsters up close like you do I guess.”

When Thor didn’t answer, she shifted her eyes to meet his. Or she would have if they weren’t glued to her naked breasts that were inches from his face.

Grace clambered back, hiding behind her arms again as the happy feelings she’d been basking in disappeared, leaving her uncomfortable and overexposed. Her chest heaved, and her wristband pinged twice before the screen flashed light pink. She stared at the screen and looked up at Thor with panic in her eyes.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are you in distress? You did not harm me.”

Grace shook her head and grabbed a pillow from the floor, clutching it to her chest as she fought off the rapidly building tension in her body. She’d thought she was doing better, that she was past the random attacks. Knowing she wasn’t weighed on her heart.

“I have to go,” she said, scanning the room for her clothes. Of course, they were on the floor behind Thor.

“Wait. Please. If I have offended you tell me so I may make it right.”

Grace sighed and held the monitor out for his inspection. The pink was brighter now, signaling the approach of a pink out. “You didn’t, but this means I’m losing control of myself, and I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t want you to see me like that. I want to save you for the real me.”

The frown on Thor’s face hit her hard. He was disgusted just like she knew he would be. Her lips trembled, and she bit them hard to keep her composure.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go. I’ll handle it myself when I get back to my room. It’s not like I need help, I’ve got a lot of options over there. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. What was I even thinking?” As she spoke, she hugged the pillow tighter.

She didn’t notice his silence as she filled the empty airwaves with her babbling. She hardly knew what she was talking about, but she couldn’t stop. The behavior stemmed from her childhood when her mother would insist that Grace entertain her. It didn’t have to make sense, just fill the void that her father’s absence left.

She was so wrapped up in her head she didn’t notice Thor approaching her. When his hands squeezed her shoulders, she yelped and tried to jerk away, but he didn’t release her. He was on his knees in front of her with that frown still marring his handsome face. Even scowling he looked beyond gorgeous, she thought with a hint of jealousy. 

Thor inched forward, one knee at a time, approaching her like one would a frightened animal. He’d been around long enough to know when someone was afraid, even if he didn’t understand Earth’s customs.

When he was close enough that his inner thighs cradled her outer ones, he pulled her toward him until her head rested on his chest. He held her as tightly as he could with her arms still clutching the pillow between them.

He resumed his gentle massaging of her back, careful to avoid any ticklish areas. “When I first gained my powers, I had a difficult time harnessing them. The lightning got the best of me on more occasions than I care to admit.”

He paused, but Grace remained silent, so he continued, “I taught myself to embrace the feeling rather than shirk from it. My own fear held me back. Do you fear your power?”

Grace was silent for a minute before she nodded into the hard muscles bulging from his chest.

“You needn’t. It’s a part of you. It longs to work with you rather than against you. I’m sure it could be a great help to you should you let it.”

“I don’t know how,” she whispered.

“Why don’t you lie back down and I’ll finish what I started while I tell you more. I will not tickle you this time.”

“I don’t know. I think I should go home. It builds up so fast, I should just go take care of it before it gets out of hand.”

“Allow me one chance to help. If it doesn’t work, I’ll bring you to your peak myself.”

At that, she leaned back, searching his eyes. There was nothing but sincerity in their brilliant blue hue. It wouldn’t be the first time someone helped her out, and she was positive it wouldn’t be the last, so she nodded and waited for him to uncage her legs before she situated herself on the floor again, arms firmly pressed to her sides this time just in case Thor was feeling tempted.

He straddled her again, this time focusing on her neck. His thumbs rubbed small circles into her skin while his fingers moved down to rest on her throat. She swallowed to test how tight his grip was, but he wasn’t applying any pressure. When his thumbs found the base of her skull, Grace couldn’t hold back a groan. Little tingles erupted everywhere his fingers stroked, and she found herself breathing heavier.

“Can you feel your power surging? Rising like the tide inside you?”

“Usually I can, but whatever you’re doing seems to be holding it off.”

“It is because you are not resisting it.” 

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her reddened, overly sensitive skin. She shut her eyes and tilted her head to the side, giving him more room to work, and his lips pressed into her skin a few more times before he found a sensitive spot just behind her jaw, under her ear. Something warm and wet, probably his tongue, caressed the spot then his lips came down on it, sucking hard at the skin.

She whimpered as goosebumps erupted from her shoulder to her ankle and her hips jerked underneath his. She felt, rather than heard, the groan that rumbled through him, though it sounded more pleasurable than painful this time. He sat up enough to rest his forehead between her shoulder blades and stayed there for several breaths.

“Your body betrays your pleasure so easily. Imagine the sounds I’ll be able to wring from you using only my mouth,” he murmured into the smooth skin of her back. His beard tickled her, and she tried to wiggle away from the prickling hairs, but he had her pinned too well.

He sat up and scooted back a few inches, rubbing his hand over her skin to dull the tingle he left behind. When his hands grazed the lacy edge of her panties she shifted away, opening one eye to glare at him. He stared her down as he smoothed his palms over her rear, each covering one cheek.

She kept her eye on him until he dug into a tight muscle with his finger and she groaned into the pillow. Tingles shot up her spine, and she rolled her shoulders before relaxing completely. He rubbed the knots, working them over until they loosened up. By then, Grace was limp. Boneless.

Her watch gave a triumphant little chime, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at it.

“It is no longer pink, is that a good sign?”

Grace flopped her wrist up by her head so she could see. He wasn’t wrong; it was back to the normal white color. “I guess it’s over,” she said. 

It made no sense. Sure, the massage felt good, but it wasn’t orgasmic by any means. She would know if that happened. She tapped the screen, pulling up her current readings. Everything was back within the normal range, so she forwarded the episode data to Bruce and let her wrist fall back to the floor.

Thor reached behind him for her clothes and set them beside her with a smile. “I knew I could help you. Thank you for trusting me.”

She got up, still keeping herself hidden from his eyes as much as possible as she redressed.

“I don’t know how, but you did it. Thank you. It felt amazing. And I’m so sorry for kicking you in the face.”

“You are most welcome. Perhaps next time you won’t shy away from my gaze. You have no reason to, your body is a beautiful thing.”

He wanted there to be a next time? Grace couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on her face. Part of her had been convinced that he wasn’t interested before, but he hadn’t even batted an eye at her episode. He certainly didn’t disprove her theory that he had magic. 

“I’ll see what Bruce has to say about the data we got today and get back to you, okay? Maybe we can work up some kind of schedule.”

Thor seemed amused by the idea of a schedule. Grace hadn’t had a plan in mind when she’d come here, but now she could clearly picture her next steps, and a schedule seemed like the most logical way to go about things.

She moved toward the door, and Thor rose to open it for her. “Oh, thank you,” she said, trying to wiggle past him. Before she escaped, he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her against him, brushing a light kiss against her lips. It was quick, nothing like the heated mess from last night, but it felt even more intimate.

Grace stood there almost stiffly, not noticing the knowing grin on his lips when he said, “Until you return,” and shut the door.

She stumbled through the hallway until she found the door for the stairwell. When it clicked shut behind her, she leaned back on it and let out a sigh. She looked back down at her wristband, just to make sure she didn’t dream up the encounter. She flicked through the timeline. The spike was there, highlighted in pink. She shook her head and started down the steps, skipping her floor and going straight to Bruce’s.


	12. Author's note

Hey readers! I've got news for you. I'm not sure whether it is good news or not, but here it is: I'm unhappy with how this story is going and I'm going to rewrite it. I'm still working on the outline, but I've made some significant changes that will stop the story from stagnating like it is right now. I apologize to those who enjoy it and want more right away or who are invested in this particular storyline. 

The rewrite will have some similarities and some differences, but I'm going to wait to post any of it until it's actually finished and my little perfectionist heart isn't cringing with each misstep that I fall into. Hopefully, anyone who is still interested in Grace will enjoy the other version. Hopefully it won't take me so long to write if I actually do a proper outline.

I do have a request. If you noticed anything weird or inconsistent, or out of character, or even writing issues that I could improve on, could you let me know? If I'm starting over, I want to get as much right as I can. Don't worry about hurting my feelings, I'm genuinely curious about your opinions. If there's anything you'd like to see, tell me that as well. If I can work it into the story in a good way, you bet I will.

Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting and giving kudos. I've made a few great new friends over the course of this story, and if anyone would like to chat with me, you can find me on Tumblr, my name there is chocolategate. I'm almost always on and I welcome making new friends.

Also, I've decided to post the next chapter I already had done, as well as the Thor one that will be ready before too long because it was requested and I aim to please! Sorry if this is a disappointment. I just want to be able to tell this story right.

Love, ChocolateGate. 


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My lovely reader, peoplers, requested that I share the rest of what I have done. Maybe after I determine which extra scenes that I already have written are not going in the new version, I'll put them here too. Thanks for supporting the story. Sorry if it's not as well edited as my others, I kind of gave up being meticulous when I got unhappy with the story.

When Bruce got to his lab he was not surprised to see Tony fiddling with the computers. 

“Find anything yet?” he said. 

“No. I’ve looked through the security logs twice. JARVIS is running facial recognition on all surveillance footage from last night, but I gave most of you guys the night off to come to the party or do your own thing, so there’s not much to go on.” 

Bruce came around the desk so he could see the screens. “Did you check the footage from the party?” 

“I invited all those people personally. I would have noticed if there was someone shady in the room.” 

“Yeah, but…” 

“But what?”

Bruce tensed his shoulders. It was never easy telling Tony he was wrong. “I heard something that might shed some light on the break in.” 

“Okay?” 

“You bragged about the wristband at your party.” 

Tony frowned. “Of course I did. It’s revolutionary.” 

“And you mentioned Grace?” 

“A little I guess. I didn’t say her name or anything though. Why? Did someone say something?” 

Bruce winced and Tony scoffed. “Who was it, Romanoff? I barely even mentioned her. It’s not connected. There’s no way that someone heard that and was able to pull this off within an hour. This was a professional job.”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying it’s something to consider,” Bruce said. 

“JARVIS, give me a list of everyone who showed up at the party. We’re going to nip this in the bud right now.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

The list appeared on the left screen and Tony leaned in close, swiping away the names of the most harmless people. Bruce read over his shoulder, not sure whether to hope they found something or not. Towards the end of the list, one name jumped out and he pushed Tony’s finger down before he could swipe it. 

“Thaddeus Ross was there?” Bruce said with a grimace. 

Tony shrugged. “He’s a good man to have around when you need something from the Army.” 

“Did you forget what happened in Harlem?” 

“When you and that other big guy had a grudge match in the street?” 

Bruce didn’t look amused. “Yeah, well do you remember who started it? Ross. He’s always been looking for a way to get to me. He never wanted me to be an Avenger.” 

Tony didn’t even try to hold back his laughter. “Has he seen you in action? If he still thinks he can control you, he’s either crazy, or an idiot, and from what I can tell neither of those are true.” 

A terrifying light bulb lit up in Bruce’s head. “Maybe he can’t control me, but what about Grace?”

“Please. What’s he going to do with her? Start an orgy? She’s not a weapon; she’s barely even a party trick.” 

“I’m serious about this. You don’t know him like I do. He wants a weapon, and if he knows about her there’s no way he’ll just leave her alone. He found me in the middle of nowhere in Brazil. Finding her here would be a walk in the park.” 

Tony glared at him for a long moment then let out a heavy sigh. “JARVIS, show me the footage of Thaddeus Ross from last night.” 

Another window opened on the screen showing the man in question laughing and mingling at the party. Tony switched it to triple speed and tracked Ross’s movements around the room. He never made contact with Grace, though his movements didn’t seem natural. He kept her in his eye line from the moment she entered the room to the moment she left. 

“Are you going to tell me it’s a coincidence that he made a phone call right after she left? And then watched her get on that elevator?” Bruce said. 

Tony couldn’t deny that something seemed off. He silently cursed himself for not figuring it out on his own. He almost shuddered thinking about what could have happened if Ross had sent someone into the elevator with Grace. 

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s suspicious, I’ll give you that. I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“But–

“That’s the best I can do. I can’t confront someone like him without evidence, and this is circumstantial at best. If anything it’s an alibi. He was still at the party after I… investigated.” 

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Tony’s omission. If he didn’t want to mention saving Grace, Bruce wasn’t about to call him out. “I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t know how Grace is going to handle this.” 

Tony frowned. “You can’t tell her. It’s barely a theory. What if she mentions it to someone and it gets back to Ross? She doesn’t know how things work in our world.” 

“You expect me to keep her in the dark?” 

“Just until we know for sure. It’s not like there’s anything she can do about it, she doesn’t even know who he is. JARVIS will keep an eye out for him around the tower, but you have to keep it between us until we have more to go on.” 

Bruce nodded even though his stomach was in knots. It felt like a misstep, but Tony had a point. There was no reason to stress her out over a half-baked theory. She’d be better off not knowing until they were positive. 

There wasn’t much else to say, so Bruce picked up the inventory sheet he’d been working on that morning and continued to fill it out, working in silence for the better part of an hour.

* * *

When Grace made it to Bruce’s floor her chest felt a little tight. 

“Maybe I do need to start exercising,” she said to herself when she had to hunch over and rest her hands on her knees to catch her breath. 

What good was controlling her power if she couldn’t even outrun a bad guy? 

She sniffed at her armpit to make sure she didn’t reek, and was pleasantly surprised that the only aroma coming from her body was Thor’s oil. It really did smell good, and there was a hint of a tingle on her skin where she’d sweated the most. 

She shrugged and rapped on the lab door with her knuckles. She’d have to ask Thor about it later, but right now all she could think about was her new discovery, and the only one who might be able to shed some light on it was Bruce. 

As soon as the door slid open she rushed inside, but she stopped short and her excitement faded when she realized it was Tony leaning casually against the computer station instead of Bruce.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“Robbery, remember? Did you get any rest last night?” Tony said. 

She eyed him skeptically and said, “I did. How was the rest of the party?” 

“Great. Everyone raved about it. It’s a shoe-in for party of the year.” 

“I’m sure it is. Did you find anything?” 

Tony nodded at Bruce with an expectant smile and Grace noticed him for the first time. 

“Oh, hey,” she said. 

Bruce raised his hand in a short wave and swallowed around the lump in his throat. “We, ah, didn’t find anything concrete other than the fact that it seems like a professional job. Don’t worry, we’ll keep looking.” 

It seemed weird that he kept his eyes glued to his clipboard the whole time he spoke to her, but Grace chalked it up to the stress of the day. 

“Did you get the data I sent?”

Bruce shook his head. “Tony’s been monopolizing my computers.”

“Don’t forget who made you these computers,” Tony said before he stepped back enough for Bruce to access the system, ending up too close to Grace for her liking. 

To her dismay, he leaned closer and sniffed her. “Did you get some new perfume when you went on your little shopping spree?” 

She didn’t realize he knew about the girls day, but she wasn't about to tell him that Thor had rubbed her down with oil so she lied. “Uh, yeah. Thank you. I should have said that last night.” 

Tony chuckled and leaned over to bump her shoulder with his. “Don’t worry. You hardly spent anything. When I have to apologize to Pep it costs me ten times as much. Smells good, by the way.” 

Was she in some kind of bizarro world? Tony was being far too nice, and it had her feeling on edge. She folded her arms over her chest and walked around the table to be sure he wouldn’t touch her again. Thor’s hands were one thing, Tony’s were another, and not in a good way.

Bruce finally looked up from the screen and flinched, not expecting her to be right in front of him. “This just happened?” 

She nodded. 

“What was the trigger?” 

“I kicked Thor in the face, but that’s not why I rushed down here.” 

“Hang on, you kicked Point Break in the face? Is that even physically possible? Unless you two were doing something a little more horizontal.” Tony’s eyes widened like saucers and he gasped dramatically. “Wow, Pinkie. You move quick. What’s Cap gonna say?” 

Grace squeezed her eyes shut almost as tight as her fists. 

Bruce shot Tony a glare and said, “Enough.” 

“Alright, alright,” Tony replied, looking distinctly put out that he’d been reprimanded. 

Grace gave Bruce her best puppy dog eyes. “Can’t you just kick him out? It’s your lab.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Scouts honor,” Tony said, holding up three fingers in the air. 

“If you say another word you’re out of here Tony,” Bruce warned. 

Tony mimed zipping up his lips, and Grace continued where she left off. “Instead of the usual thing, Thor just gave me a back massage and everything stopped after a while.”

When Tony took in a sharp breath, Grace leveled a death glare she learned from Natasha at him. 

Bruce pulled his glasses from his coat pocket and shoved them on before he read over her data more carefully. “Apparently you experienced a surge of oxytocin just before you normalized. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that before.” 

That snapped Grace’s attention away from Tony and back to Bruce. “I remember learning about that during my A&P class. It’s the hormone that makes us happy, right?” 

Bruce nodded. “Yes. That explains why orgasms work so well. As far as I know they are the biggest natural release of oxytocin outside of childbirth.” 

She nodded. That seemed to be true. Even when she was just masturbating for fun she felt a lot better afterward. Her mind flicked back to the orgasm Thor gave her last night and she found herself wondering why she insisted on keeping things above board with him this morning. If she’d just relaxed she probably could have had an even better one by now. Would it be weird to stop by again, just to say hi?

“I guess I should get to work on the other part of that plan we talked about.” 

“You don’t sound too excited about that,” Bruce said. 

She shook her head with a tiny smile. “I’m just a little nervous.” 

“That’s understandable. You don’t have to do it right away you know. It’s okay to take your time.” 

“It seems like all I’ve been doing since I got here was taking my time. I need to just rip off the band aid.”

Bruce shrugged. “Whatever you choose, just make sure you’re ready.” 

Tony looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to read between the lines to figure out what they weren’t saying. 

After a minute he said, “If it’s Thor you’re after all you’d have to do is bat your eyelashes and tell him he’s _so_ strong and he’d be putty in your hands. I mean he already gave you a massage right? That’s foreplay in my book.” 

Grace groaned. It was good advice, but coming from Tony made it gross. Her groan turned into a laugh when Bruce reached back and swatted at Tony with his stapler. 

“Watch it, Banner. I was helping.” 

“I’m going to get out of here before he decides to help again. Let me know if you find something,” she said to Bruce. 

He nodded and said goodbye, and Tony had the good sense not to say anything else as she left the room. 

Once she was alone, Grace let out a sigh. She glanced at the elevator and frowned. Her fear was already making life difficult. She didn’t know how to get past that particular obstacle, but she did know the solution to her other one. 

She ducked into the stairwell to start the trek back to her room. 

At first it was easy, but after the third flight, her legs started to burn. At five she stopped, laughing pathetically at the way her muscles protested each upward step. One more and she had to take a break. 

She plopped down at the next landing and leaned her back against the wall next to the door. She was going back and forth in her mind about what she should do next. Going to her room was always an option, but she wouldn’t make any progress that way. Unless she called up Natasha and they went to the gym. But her legs were already at their limit, so she ruled that one out too. 

The only person that could always help her make sense of her inner chaos was only a phone call away, so she pulled out her cell and dialed one of the only numbers she knew by heart. 

Melissa answered on the third ring. “ _Well, look who’s finally calling their mama. I haven’t heard from you in ages._ ” 

Some of the tension left Grace’s body. This is exactly what she needed. Talking to her friends was great, but there was something to be said for the comfort of family. 

“I’m sorry. How’s everything down there? How are you and Dad?” 

“ _Everything’s fine. You know us, always plugging along. Dad’s been working on his truck. It always needs some new fancy thing, you know._ ” 

Grace chuckled. “Yeah, sounds like him.” 

After several silent moments, Melissa said, “ _I know you didn’t call to hear about the truck. What’s really on your mind, Dear?_ ” 

Grace sighed. Melissa really did know her the best. Grace was practically an adult when they’d met, and Melissa had been the one to dry her tears when she didn’t fit in with the kids at the high school, and the one who encouraged her to go to college once she finally graduated. 

Grace hesitated to mention the break in but she didn’t keep secrets from Melissa. She was honestly Grace’s best friend, and Grace trusted her more than anyone in the world, so she knew she had to be honest about this. 

“Someone broke in here and stole some things that they could use to hurt me.” 

She could hear the frown in Melissa’s voice when she said, “ _They said they were going to keep you safe. I should have kept you here with me. Do you want me to come up there and get you?_ ”

“No, I’ll be okay. That’s kind of why I called. I needed your opinion on some things.” 

“ _Okay,_ ” Melissa said. 

“I’ve decided to start facing my fears, one in particular. You probably know which.” 

“ _I can guess. Do you have someone in mind?_ ” 

Grace couldn’t help but smile when she said, “Yeah, I do.” 

“ _Oh, sweetheart. That is great news. Is it Captain America?_ ” 

Grace scoffed. “No. Why would you think that?” 

“ _Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you drooled over him when he came on the television a few years ago. And you did say he lives down the hall._ ” 

“We’re just friends, and besides that I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

“ _Okay, I believe you. Now tell me about this boy._ ” 

“He’s not really a boy…” Grace trailed off, unsure how to say that she was contemplating sleeping with the god of thunder. 

_“So he’s older? Okay. It’s not Tony Stark, is it? That might give your dad a heart attack._ ” 

Grace made a disgusted sound. “No more guessing. You’re going to make me lose my lunch.” Come to think of it she hadn’t even had lunch. 

Laughter echoed in her ear and she sighed, “It’s not funny. I don’t even think you’ll believe me when I tell you.” 

“ _Well then tell me. I’m prepared to be amazed._ ” 

“Okay.” Grace took a deep breath and said, “It’s Thor.” 

Melissa was silent for a little too long so Grace said, “Mom?” 

“ _I’m here. You were right. That’s… wow. Good job_.” 

With a chuckle Grace said, “I know. It’s crazy, right?” 

“ _It’s not crazy, you’re a wonderful girl. Is he kind to you?_ ” 

Grace didn’t have the heart to tell her they’d only just met the night before. “He really is. I’ve never felt the way I do when I’m around him. And he smells like home.” 

“ _Well, there you go. I’m glad you finally feel safe enough to try. I know that this is a huge thing for you. You’ve come so far. You can do this._ " 

“I’m so nervous,” Grace admitted. 

“ _I think everyone is at first. Just take it slow. If he knows what he’s doing, he’ll make sure you’re ready first, and if he doesn’t, don’t be afraid to tell him what you need_.”

“I’ll try.” 

“ _You tell that boy he better treat you like the princess you are or I’ll drive up there with Dad’s pistol. I’ll shoot him, god or not._ ” 

Grace couldn’t hold back her laughter as she imagined how that would play out. Melissa wouldn’t get past the lobby gunning for one of the Avengers, no matter how kind she looked. 

“Thanks Mom. You’re the best.” 

“ _I hope it goes the way you want. Your dad just got home and I can see a bunch of boxes in the back of the truck so I’m gonna let you go. Don’t wait so long to call me next time._ ” 

“I won’t, I promise. Give Dad a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“ _Love you too, Gracie._ ” 

Grace hung up the phone and stood, ready to proceed to her destination. Slowly but surely she made it the rest of the way, pausing briefly to glance at the door to her floor before continuing up one more flight. 

This time when she pulled the door, it opened for her. “Thanks JARVIS,” she said. 

“You are welcome. Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Kinney,” JARVIS replied with a hint of sass in his automated voice. 

“I’m pretty sure I will,” she said under her breath with a smile as she approached the now familiar wooden door and raised her hand to knock.


End file.
